


The People Our Parents Created

by ArchOfImagine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Sam, Dubious Consent, Evil Corporations, Forced Marriage, Government Mandated Partnerships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of forced non/con, Mpreg, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-13 22:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 30,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5718979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchOfImagine/pseuds/ArchOfImagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel Novak turns eighteen, he walks down a hall with a group of kids that share the same birthday, and finds out his future. The woman at the desk checks his ID number and declares him a 'carrier' before assigning him to his new mate, Sam Winchester. Because when you live on a space station, everything -- including procreation -- is strictly controlled.</p><p>And it doesn't matter how much you like your new mate's brother... that isn't how things work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of a step outside of the box for me as an author, but I'm excited about the story and my muse loves it enough that I've written three chapters in forty-eight hours. 
> 
> As a note to the readers that might be squeamish in regards to MPREG: I don't intend to go into details. In this universe, male carriers get pregnant by having sex the same way two men in our universe would. And all birth will happen via surgery but be completely glimpsed over.
> 
> To be frank, the mpreg is just a way of fucking up poor Castiel's world. ;)

**May 24th, 2097  
IES — Dock 38 — Pod 19**

_Tomorrow is my eighteenth birthday. Unlike all of my other birthdays, this one is actually important. I get my assignment tomorrow. I find out if I’m a Giver or a Carrier — and I meet the person I’ll spend the rest of my life with._

_I’m not ready. The entire system seems flawed. How can ARKCO expect people forced into relationships to actually be happy?_

_I wonder what it was like back on Earth. Joey says he’s heard rumors about people being in_ love. _And actually choosing a mate! Though I suppose if that process had worked well, we wouldn’t be here now._

_— Castiel Novak #7854B6_

\---

The IES (International Environment Station) project began development in 2009. A group of scientists had begun to understand that the Earth’s resources would not support humanity for an indefinite amount of time, and other options had to be sought. Enter ARKCO, a company with funding from nine major governments around the world, that supported the idea of a space station large enough to sustain lives. It would be another seventeen years before IES actually flew into orbit.

The first residents were handpicked — the best, the brightest, the smartest, and the richest. Life remained on Earth, of course, but if Earth’s resources diminished to the point of risking the last visages of humanity — a select group would continue to live on. 

When it took orbit, the IES looked like a large metal spider. In the core of the structure was a ten story living center that contained habitats for food creation, offices for government and military support, and production areas for basic life necessities. There was also a level for medical needs, and of course the control room that kept the station in working condition. 

On each of the eight ‘legs’ of the spider, were the different pods that housed the humans aboard. Each family was granted a small two bedroom apartment.

The first generation struggled. Despite the best of intentions, fertility and reproduction rates greatly diminished. The answer came in the form of the Marco Jansen Project; Marco established a means of making sure not just women, but men as well, could carry children. Unfortunately, with this technology available, the fear of overpopulation grew. The second generation of residents on IES expanded the station to contain forty residence docks (the original eight gained five additional wings) and smaller ‘town’ areas with hospital and military support, along with stores for rations. 

From that point on, all population expansion was strictly controlled. Each resident reaching the age of eighteen, would receive their assignment: Giver, Carrier, or Support Personnel. Givers were the breeders, all men chosen for their genetic backgrounds. Carriers did just that — carried the next generation. Current percentages had seventy-five percent female carriers, and twenty-five percent male. Support personnel were marked as unsuitable for breeding and thrust into positions in the government or military, where they wouldn’t suffer emotionally if they didn’t have the attachment of a spouse or child.

Once a person had their assignment, they were systematically matched up with their closest compatible mate, to insure that the next generation would be healthy and happy. 

Because in order to support a flying space station housing thousands of people: nothing could be left to chance. Not even love.

\---

When population was well controlled — people tended to share birthdays. As Castiel Novak, resident number 7854B6, stood in line to get his classification assignment, he stood with twelve other eighteen-year-olds. He rubbed nervously at his wrist and wondered if any of the people around him would be his _mate._ That would be weird, for sure. _’Hey, weren’t you just in line behind me this morning? Awesome! Guess what… now we’re spending the rest of our lives together! Ready to procreate?’_

The line continued to move, while he was zoned out imagining his new life mate, until finally a hand was reaching out to take his wrist an abrasive voice was asking, “Identification number?”

Castiel looked up at the woman sitting before him and frowned. Sure, classification issuer probably wasn’t the most _glamorous_ job, but did she have to see so rude? “7854B6.” 

She didn’t ask for his name, but then again — there wasn’t really a need for names, when his ID number could be typed into a computer and offer up every fact about him. 

A few seconds of typing, and she held out a printed piece of paper to him. “Classification is _carrier._ Please report to Dock 29, pod 7, with all of your belongings. Your giver, 9830R2, will be waiting. Carrier reconstruction surgery is next Monday.” 

Castiel stared down at the paper in his hand and tried to process the information he had just received. Even with the possibility always on the table, he had never expected to be a carrier. The odds were still so low for males to be assigned with that designation. He had thought he held a higher chance of being deemed _unsuitable_ and sent into military training. 

“ _Next._ ” The woman demanded, clearly giving Castiel a look that said: _have your life crisis somewhere else._

He finally found the ability to step away, heading back towards his parents pod located on Dock 38 to get his things. Being assigned to his new home and told that his mate was waiting, meant only that the other man was older. Probably only by a few days at most, though.

Pod 19, Dock 38, the place that had been his home for eighteen years, was empty. His parents were still both at work in the food preservation lab and would be for hours. Instead of waiting for their return, he grabbed the bags that were waiting on his bed, and wrote out a note to leave on the counter — information on his new home location, so they could find him without searching the database. From there, he went searching for his new home.

It wasn’t as easy as he expected. Dock 29 stemmed from section 6, of the original IES design — the section designated for military personnel. He had to pass through three security checkpoints to get to the proper dock. It was all a bit confusing, especially when he considered that most military officers were deemed unsuitable and thus didn’t _have_ mates coming to live with them.

Pod 7 was on the right side of the hall, halfway down the dock. Castiel dropped his bag by his feet and reached out to knock on the door. 

The response took a couple of minutes to arrive — long enough that he was starting to assume he was in the wrong spot, and ready to dig in his bag for his printout — when the door finally opened, a slightly taller man, dressed in military issued apparel, stood before him. 

Castiel’s first thought was that he had won the lottery. With golden brown hair that was definitely _way_ too shaggy to be a military-approved hair style, and penetrating green eyes — the guy was, for lack of a better word, _hot._

An eyebrow rose as those green eyes continued to question Castiel’s presence. “Are you lost?” a deep voice finally asked. “How’d you get past the security, kid?”

_Kid._ Castiel suddenly became aware of the fact that the man before him was definitely older by more than just a few days. More like _years._ What the hell was going on? His mate was an old military guy? “I’m um… Castiel. Uh, 7854B6. I was told to report here after my classification issuance.”

The guy nodded, and finally seemed to relax. “Alright then.” He stepped back, holding the door open for Castiel to walk through. “Welcome to Dock 29, Cas. I’m Dean.”

Castiel stepped inside after picking up his bag, and glanced around the small apartment like dwelling. It was the same as every other pod in every other dock… except… “Three bedrooms?” Castiel turned back to Dean. “And since when do military officers get mates?”

“Oh no.” Dean shook his head. “I’m not your mate, I’m just here for the show.”

_What kind of sick bastard…_ “What?”

“You’re here for Sam, my brother,” Dean answered, amusement in his tone. “Military officers that reach the rank of Captain or higher, are allowed to request housing in Dock 29 that allows their siblings to stay nearby. Thus: three bedrooms. One for me, and two for you and Sam and your rugrats.” Dean moved across the living room floor, to the right side where two of the three bedrooms were. He opened one of the bedroom doors and motioned inside. “This is Sam’s room. You can put your stuff in there. He should be back soon. Went to get rations for the week.”

_Brother._ So Castiel wasn’t mating with the older ( _hot_ ) military officer. He was mating his brother. The hot officer was just there to keep things annoyingly interesting. _Just my luck._ Castiel tucked his bag into a corner of the room that was empty, hoping he didn’t disrupt any of Sam’s things unknowingly. Then he walked back out into the living room, eyes landing on where Dean sat at the table reading paperwork. “I never knew three bedrooms were a thing. Why do they keep it a secret to the general population?”

“It’s called PTSD.” Dean looked up from his papers, and Castiel was surprised to see a pair of wire-framed glasses perched on his nose. “Soldiers that see action, tend to come back with emotional and psychological issues. ARKCO doesn’t tell gen-pop in an effort to keep fear down. They found that housing those soldiers with loved ones keeps their psychological traumas at bay.”

Action? The amount of violence on IES was almost insignificant. Half of one percent. Where were soldiers seeing _action_?

“Earth,” Dean stated, eyes back down on his paperwork. Castiel hadn’t said a word, but the unvoiced question must have been written out on his face.

Earth. Soldiers from IES were fighting on Earth? Who were they fighting? Dean had been to _Earth_? Castiel wanted to ask what it was like. What did oceans look like? Real trees? Was actual gravity harder to handle than artificial? 

Were people still in love?

The pod’s door suddenly opened and Castiel startled at the intrusion. A tall gangly-limbed teenager walked in carrying a box of rations. Castiel’s eyes tracked over the other boys features — from a haircut that was shaved on one side and mousy brown lengths on the other, to a sharp metal piercing in one eyebrow. _Shit._ Castiel’s mate was a _raver._ What even was going on? He was going to spend the rest of his days with a psychologically traumatized been-to-Earth-and-back soldier and a stick-it-to-the-man rebel? 

_I want to go home,_ he thought, collapsing into one of the chairs across from Dean. He tried to remember if classifications had ever been turned over. If it was possible to go back to the grumpy lady at the issuance desk and ask for a different mate. _’This one is broken. He’s a raver. Come on. Please give me someone else!’_

Sam set the box down on the kitchen counter, before turning and noticing that he and his brother were no longer the only people in the pod. “Who’s this?”

Dean looked to Castiel with a smirk. “Your new carrier pigeon.”

“Apparently requesting a _female_ doesn’t work,” Sam mused. He walked across the room and held his hand out to Castiel. “Name’s Sam.”

Sam had a _tattoo_ on his knuckles. A tattoo! As Castiel shook his mate’s hand, he read the black ink. _Peace._ “Castiel.”

“Nice to meet you, Castiel. Did Dean show you where to put your things?” Castiel nodded, causing Sam to smile. “Cool. I know it’s a bit atypical, having the dorkface over their encroaching on our territory — but it has it’s benefits.”

“Three minutes extra of hot water,” Dean interjected.

Sam nodded. “And Dean made friends with one of the workers in ration control so we each get an extra dessert portion.”

“I like pie,” Dean spoke up again.

“He likes pie,” Sam reiterated. 

Castiel watched the back-and-forth, before slowly easing out of his chair to stand. “Speaking of showers… if it’s alright, I’d like to take mine and maybe do some quiet studying.” Despite his new carrier status, Castiel still had two more years of advanced education before he would be given a job. ARKCO planned that to allow two years of carriers spending the majority of their time raising their young while studying. Once the children were old enough to be potty-trained, they were sent off to preschool while carriers worked half days for the next three years. At year five, children went to school and carriers went to work full time.

No one argued with his request to shower, so Castiel walked back towards Sam’s room, where he had left his things. As he walked out, he couldn’t help but overhear his new mate’s next words…

“I really wanted a chick.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned: Sammy is kind of an asshole for a few chapters. Sorrrrrry. But someone had to be.

Until Castiel completed his treatment on Monday, there was no actual reason for him to sleep with or have relations with Sam. That didn’t mean it didn’t happen, he supposed. There might be people that happened to get mated with someone they found attractive and immediately wanted. Castiel wasn’t experiencing similar circumstances.

So when Sam offered the idea of Castiel sleeping in the spare bedroom — the one that their future children would use — Castiel happily nodded and moved his bag. 

The thing about life on IES was: thanks to the restrictions of mating and procreation, all non regulated sex was frowned upon. So for ninety percent of the community that followed the rules, it was extremely likely that all newly mated eighteen-year-olds were virgins. 

The only people that didn’t value virginity were _rebels._

Like Sam.

And the only thing worse than going into a new mating with the fear of being an unknowing virgin — was going into the situation with a mate that actually knew what he or she was doing. The utter humiliation…

Granted, Sam could be a virgin and Castiel could be making a mountain out of a molehill (one of his father’s favorite Earth phrases!), but the fear was still there. And paralyzing enough that he wasn’t even ready to ask Sam one way or the other. So for the first five days of his time spent living with his new mate, he happily avoided the inevitable and slept in the spare room.

Ironically, despite the fact that there were three people living in the pod, Castiel was almost always alone. From what little explanation he had received, he knew that Dean worked in the training center, helping newly classified military personnel — a job that kept him gone for twelve hours of the day. And Sam, since he wasn’t a carrier and didn’t have to wait two years before working, was training in one of the medical centers to be a doctor while also doing schooling in the evenings. 

If Castiel woke up two hours earlier than normal, he could sometimes manage to see Dean and Sam while they ate breakfast. The conversations were always so awkward and disjointed, though, that he found sleeping in to be a lot more pleasant. 

Monday morning, he received an email reminder about his appointment and instructions on where to go and what to expect. The procedure — which essentially gave him all the parts internally that he would need to carry a child — would last six to eight hours, and he would spend twenty-four hours in a med unit afterwards. 

It was customary for a newly mated couple to walk to the appointment together. Castiel had passed countless young couples awkwardly making their way into the small medical offices together. So after taking a shower in his room and getting dressed, he expected Sam to be waiting for him in the living area of the pod. 

Apparently, though, that was hoping for too much. He called out softly, “Sam? Dean?” but received no response. There wasn’t even a note. And it wasn’t like Sam wouldn’t know when the appointment was. He would have received a similar email that morning — and Castiel had reminded him the morning before!

_Great._ He felt his stomach churning unhappily. He wasn’t a fan of doctors — not after that time when he was seven and broke his arm while playing — and he had hoped that Sam would be there with him to at least offer a distraction for a little while. 

He waited in the pod for as long as possible, risking being late in the hopes that his mate would come rushing in and make an excuse about a last minute emergency that morning. Finally, with just enough time to walk to the medical office, he stepped out of the pod and closed the door behind him with shaky hands.

\---

When food was the same each week, the only way to make it taste better was to make it exciting. It was for that reason alone, that Monday nights were the best night to be a Winchester.

“Pizza night!” Sam cried out happily, as he burst through the pod door. He was earlier than usual, but then again so was Dean. Pizza night meant getting home by seven and actually relaxing for a few hours before bed. After throwing his stuff down in the vicinity of the sofa, Sam moved into the kitchen to spy on Dean fixing the pizza. “Did you get the movie too?”

“It cost me two pies, but yeah.” Dean pointed over his shoulder at the projector in the living room. “Apparently Luca was the one harboring old copies of Star Wars.”

“You didn’t get one of the crap episodes, did you?”

“Come on, man,” Dean reached out to slap Sam’s shoulder, smearing tomato sauce on his uniform. “You know me better than that!”

Sam laughed and moved into his room to change into his lounge clothes. When he walked back out, the pizza was in the oven and Dean was sitting at the table with paperwork again. They wouldn’t put the movie on until their food was ready. “Is Cas here?” Sam asked, motioning towards his ‘mate’s closed bedroom door.

“Haven’t seen him. Figured he was either sleeping, or still out.” Dean peered up over his glasses. “How is that going, by the way? You two hitting it off?”

A frown appeared on the younger Winchester’s face. “We haven’t actually talked?”

“You mean, about procreating?”

“I mean… at all.”

Sometimes he would feel bad about that fact. Like in the morning when he was just waking up and the extra space on the bed was strikingly cold. He had a _mate._ He didn’t need to be alone.

But then he was reminded that his mate had a _penis._ And Sam remembered that he had absolutely no idea how to handle his current life situation and would focus back on things that he actually knew how to handle.

His brother seemed to be upset by Sam’s admission. What did he know, though? At eighteen Dean had been deemed _unfit_ to have a government-sanctioned mate. Mostly because of his random bouts of anger, but also because of some unknown genetic flaw. He had no right to talk when it came to how Sam handled things with Castiel!

Turning his back on his brother — a last ditch attempt to avoid a lecture — Sam moved back to his bedroom. “Let me know when the pizza is done. I’m going to study.”

Forty-five minutes later, Dean called out that dinner was ready. Sam put away his books and stepped back into the living room. His eyes tracked to Castiel’s door once more. “Should we wake him?”

Dean collapsed onto the couch with a plate full of pizza. “He isn’t in there. Probably got tired of your ass and went home.”

As Sam plated up his own pizza, he contemplated the repercussions of not following through with ARKCO regulations. Could he request a different mate? How exactly did that work? _’Excuse me… there must be a mix-up. My dick doesn’t get hard for guys.’_

\---

“I’m sorry, sir, but we just can’t.”

Castiel groaned, staring at the nurse and trying once more to plead his case. “I can’t get in touch with my mate! Are you saying that I have to lay here in this room indefinitely?” He was _way_ too sore to be having arguments. 

And fuck Sam Winchester for being a terrible mate that was unreliable and unavailable.

“Post-surgery protocol states that your mate must be with you when you leave the hospital,” the nurse repeated. “I’ll give you a few minutes with the COMM and hopefully you can get in touch with him.”

_Unlikely._ Even calling the medical office where Sam was supposed to be working had been unsuccessful. Apparently he was in the midst of an exam and ‘couldn’t be interrupted, not even for an emergency.’ 

Castiel stared at the communication device laying in his hand, and waited another moment, before trying his second best option. _Dean._

Bless his lucky stars, the device actually _rang._

A couple moments later, Dean’s voice came through on the line. “Hello?”

“ _Dean._ Thank God. I need your help.”

“Who is this?”

If the maneuver wouldn’t send his body into crippling convulsions, Castiel would slam his head against a wall. _Could have been a fucking support personnel. No mate. No babies. No painful-as-fuck surgery!_ “Castiel,” he stressed. “You know, your brother’s fucking mate that he hates.”

“Oh.” Castiel could hear the argument in Dean’s voice, “He doesn’t hate you…”

“Would you please come to the section 7 medical office and pretend to be Sam?” Castiel was not opposed to begging… “ _Please._ ”

“Why would I—”

“Because they won’t let me fucking leave until my mate is here!”

“Section 7?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Give me twenty minutes.”

The connection cut off and Castiel dropped the COMM onto his hospital bed. He hoped the medical staff didn’t raise too many eyebrows about Dean pretending to be Sam…

As the minutes ticked by, Castiel suddenly realized that though he wanted to go home… he hadn’t taken into consideration how badly the journey back to his pod was going to hurt. From the waist down, everything _hurt._ How was he going to walk? Could they just roll the fucking bed back to the pod?

The answer to his question suddenly burst through the door. Dean. And a wheelchair. “Come on,” his brother-in-law growled. “They gave me a bag full of medication and told me I could borrow the chair. What the hell happened to you?”

Castiel slowly — gingerly — eased off of the bed and into the wheelchair. He gasped when he realized how badly sitting felt. He was going to stay in bed for a week, once he got back to the pod. “I became a fucking carrier,” he growled. 

“ _Shit._ ” Dean stared down at him in shock. “That’s where you’ve been? Having your reconstruction surgery?”

“Yessss. Now please take me home before the nurse decides not to let me leave after all.”

Dean nodded, placing the bag of prescriptions onto Castiel’s lap before steering the wheelchair out of the office. They were halfway home before he spoke, “Did Sam know?”

Castiel rolled his eyes and tried not to groan when Dean hit a bump in the floor. “Mandatory ARKCO policy requires a reminder email be sent to both the carrier _and_ the giver.”

“Oh.”

Even though Dean didn’t say it, Castiel knew the truth: Sam hadn’t mentioned the email or the surgery. Probably because he didn’t want Castiel as his carrier. Castiel sighed, glancing into the bag of pill bottles. “I hope there’s something in here strong enough to knock me out.”

“It isn’t his fault, you know. He’s just a kid.” 

They finally got to the security checkpoint at the entrance to Dock 29, and Castiel let Dean handle the conversation with the guards. Once they were on their way to pod 7, Castiel whispered, “So am I.”

Because Dean could make as many excuses about Sam being young and stupid as he wanted — but the fact remained that Castiel was actually a couple weeks _younger._ And he was the one being forced to face his new life head-on. 

Meanwhile Sam continued to be off ignoring his responsibilities.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean stared at the bedroom door and continued to feel like shit. He hadn’t gone back to work after picking up Castiel from the med center. Instead, he had called his boss and offered up an excuse, before making sure that Cas was comfortable in bed and sitting down with a new book.

He couldn’t focus on the story, though. All he could think about was how badly his brother was fucking up his new relationship. Sam could be a bit scatter brained, but to intentionally ignore an email about his mate’s health?

When it started getting late and Sam still wasn’t home, Dean pulled out his COMM and sent a text message to his brother. **Where are you?**

The reply took a couple of minutes to come through. **Rave. See ya tomorrow.**

Dean rolled his eyes and felt like throwing the COMM against the wall. A rave, of course. It wasn’t that his brother’s mostly-illegal activities bothered Dean, it was just the fact that with a mate at home… Sam really should cut back on the partying. 

Suddenly there was an agonizing cry of ‘FUCK!’ from the other side of Castiel’s bedroom door. Dean jumped at the sound, throwing his book across the floor by accident. His eyes shifted back and forth around the living room for a moment, as he tried to decide what to do. On the one hand, Castiel wasn’t his mate. Or his responsibility.

On the other hand, if Sam wasn’t going to step up, then someone else needed to.

Dean made it across the room, right before another cry sounded. He tapped lightly on the door, before pushing it open. “Cas?” His response was another pained grunt, and he switched the light on, before moving over to the bed. “What can I do? Do you need more medication?”

Castiel rolled on the bed so that he was facing Dean. His hands were wrapped tightly around his stomach, and when he looked up, the pain and pleading for relief were rampant in his eyes. “The cramping is unbearable,” he gasped.

“I’ll get your pills!” Dean answered quickly, nerves getting the best of him. He didn’t know how to handle _sick_ people. (Probably yet another reason why the government had deemed him unfit for a mate.) 

“It’s not enough.”

Dean glanced around the room, like the empty space would give him an answer. Finally, it hit him. When Sam was younger, he had gotten a widespread stomach virus that hit the majority of the children on IES. Their mother had made Sam sleep curled around a heating pad, while rubbing his back gently until his pain eased.

Now that his plan was formed, Dean moved into action. He got a glass of water and Cas’ next dosage of medication, along with the heating pad that his mother had gifted to him after his first war injury. When he came back into Castiel’s room, he coaxed the pills into the younger man, before plugging the heating pad into a nearby power unit. 

“Here,” he whispered, lifting up Castiel’s arm so he could place the pad in the spot that seemed to hurt the most. 

Castiel immediately curled around the warmth and let out a soft sigh. Dean waited a moment, before moving around to the other side of the bed and sitting down next to where Cas laid. He reached out tentatively and began gently rubbing circles around Castiel’s lower back.

Castiel seemed to startle for a moment, before he realized the comfort of the touch and relaxed. He turned his head a bit to glance at Dean. “Thanks.”

\---

The first thing that Dean noticed when he woke up the following morning was _warmth._ The second thing he noticed was the solid weight pressed against his chest.

 _Interesting._

He blinked his eyes open and looked down, only to frown at the shaggy dark brown hair on the top of the head laid against his chest. _Cas._

Well then. Apparently he had fallen asleep while helping to ease Castiel’s pain the night before. That part made sense. What didn’t make sense was why Cas would curl up against him and hold on for dear life. 

He wiggled a little, trying to ease away from Castiel without disturbing his sleep. It worked, and he slipped out of the bed, making sure to exit the room as quietly as possible. Judging by the light in the living room, coming in from the windows, it was still early morning. Dean was softly walking across to his own bedroom, when he noticed a large lump on the sofa.

As he got closer, to inspect the lump, he was met with his second surprise of the morning. 

Sam was stretched out on the couch asleep… beneath a blonde-haired young lady. There was a blanket draped over the middle of the woman’s back… but it definitely didn’t hide the fact that she and Sam were both naked.

_Shit._

Dean ran a tired hand through his hair and down over his face, before looking at the closed door of Castiel’s bedroom. What would Cas do if he knew this was going on? He already felt alone and scared, that much was obvious. And if Sam didn’t change his ways soon, the complete and utter rejection would drive Castiel beyond his breaking point. 

Stepping forward, Dean held a hand over his brother’s mouth to keep him from screaming, before quickly slapping the kid’s face. 

He was being stupid. He deserved it.

He deserved the second slap too.

Finally jolted awake, Sam’s eyes shot open and stared in shock as he tried to understand his surroundings. Dean brought his index finger to his own lips and whispered, “Shh,” before pulling his hand away from Sam’s mouth.

“Dean?” Sam croaked. “Why’d ya slap me?”

Dean pointed an accusing finger at the blonde. “Get rid of her. Now. You’re _mated_ , Sam. And I know you might not like that, but if ARKCO finds out you’re sleeping with someone other than your mate, there will be hell to pay.”

“They wouldn’t—”

“And what if Cas had seen you like this? His life would be in danger if he didn’t mate with you… and you’re being so selfish, that you don’t even consider him before being a douche?” It was a harsh reality, but Dean had seen it before. When a carrier and giver weren’t compatible as mates, or if they fought back against the idea of being forced into a relationship, they were no good to ARKCO from that point on.

The general population, of course, had no idea about those specific regulations. But Dean had seen more than a few shuttles bound for Earth, carrying ‘mates’ that never came back.

Sam hesitated a moment, before finally nodding his head and gently waking the blonde up. Dean left them to it, but not before telling Sam to be quick about it — he didn’t want to risk Castiel waking up and seeing them. When the blonde was finally gone — and Sam had pants on — Dean stepped back out into the living room, dressed and ready for work.

He sat down across from his brother and crossed his arms over his chest. “I want you to call your boss and request a couple days off.”

“What? Dean!” Sam looked up and shook his head. “It’s only been a week… the mate thing will happen, okay?”

“Castiel had his carrier reconstruction surgery on Monday. That’s why he wasn’t here.” Dean waited for some kind of guilt to appear on Sam’s face (at having known about the surgery but still not gone) but it didn’t happen. He seriously had to teach the kid to check his emails. “He’s still sore and he needs someone here to keep an eye on him.” When Sam opened his mouth to protest again, Dean held up a hand to stop him. “Sam, the excuse of ‘my mate is sick’ is not going to work to get me out of work. But it will for you. So call your fucking boss and man the hell up.”

Sam sat pouting as Dean finally stood. On his way out the door, Dean made one final comment: “Do it, or I’ll call dad!”

\---

The nurses had mentioned that Castiel would heal faster if he forced himself out of bed at least for a few hours each day. So when he woke up, after a surprisingly relaxing sleep, he ignored the pain and got up. After a quick stop in the bathroom to pee and take another dose of pain medication, he headed out into the living area of the pod in the hopes of finding something to eat that wouldn’t upset his stomach.

When he spotted his mate standing in the kitchen, he frowned, coming to a stop in the middle of the room. “Sam?”

Sam turned, managing a mostly unsure smile as he motioned to a pot on the stove. “I’m making soup. Does that sound alright?”

“Oh.” Castiel glanced around, unsure if he was still dreaming or not. “Um, yes, I suppose.” He sat down gingerly at the dining room table, still watching Sam’s movements. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I took a couple of emergency days, after Dean told me you had your surgery.” Sam looked over with a sheepishness in his eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I have a bad habit of forgetting to check my emails.”

_Of course._ “It’s fine. Nothing that can be done about it now.”

Sam poured the soup out into a couple of bowls, before carrying them over to the table. “I was hoping that, since we have some time to kill, we could get to know each other better. It might make things a bit easier going forward…” He hesitated, before motioning towards Castiel’s stomach. “With kids and all.”

Though it would be easy to hate him, after everything that had happened, Castiel knew that would get him nowhere. He and Sam were mated for life — like it or not. Might as well put in the effort to at least make the time enjoyable. 

“I would like that.”

\---

Dean knew that he was being ridiculous.

This was what he _wanted._ It was exactly what he had asked for.

Still, there was something gut-wrenchingly painful about sitting on the sofa and watching Sam carry Castiel’s belongings out of the spare room and into Sam’s. 

Apparently spending two days alone together, while Castiel healed, had worked it’s magic. They were talking. And touching. And at one point Dean had even caught Castiel staring _longingly_ at Sam.

Maybe it was the hormones overloading Castiel’s body. 

Yeah, that had to be it.

Dean watched Castiel carry a steaming glass of tea towards Sam’s bedroom, and felt something close to jealousy boiling beneath his skin.

“Night, Dean,” Cas called, giving a small wave as he disappeared into the room.

“Goodnight, Cas,” Dean whispered.

ARKCO liked to make their soldiers believe that they weren’t capable of romantic emotions. _You aren’t fit to love,_ was a statement that Dean had had yelled in his face more than a few times during basic training.

Watching Sam shut himself away with his mate for the first time… Dean wished that ARKCO was correct.

He wished he couldn’t feel.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is one of my favorite chapters ever...

It took almost a week before Castiel finally started to feel normal again and the slow ache in his midsection went away. If that was how bad just the reconstruction surgery was — he couldn’t imagine pregnancy and labor. The three days spent with Sam, while his mate stayed home from work, had actually been quite enjoyable. His mate was clever and funny, and they had a surprising amount of interests in common. 

But sleeping in the same bed as the other man was… _unusual._ Castiel wasn’t used to sharing personal space in such a way. Even when he had been sick as a boy, his parents had never coddled him enough to sleep next to him. 

On top of the _’hey you’re stealing my pillow!’_ , there was the other factor. 

In day to day life on IES… _sex_ wasn’t a topic of conversation. There were, of course, sexual education classes in school — most involved the basic information about what was happening to a body going through puberty, and what would happen once a body hit eighteen and a mate was selected. 

Discussions on personal stimulation _didn’t_ happen. If a boy, at thirteen or fourteen, realized that stroking his dick felt _good_... then he kept that information to himself and didn’t even whisper it to his best friends during gym class. 

Castiel wasn’t a prude. He was definitely one of the boys that had realized touching oneself could be pleasant, but as his hormones had regulated when he got older, the urge grew less and less. At eighteen, he only found himself masturbating when he had a particularly vivid dream and woke up hard.

Sam Winchester was the opposite. As a raver, it was easy to assume that Sam had been sexually active with a _partner,_ and that experience easily meant that he knew the benefits of things like masturbating multiple times a day and other things that Castiel couldn’t even name.

Which probably explained why ‘waking up hard’ wasn’t just an every-once-in-awhile thing for Sam. It was _daily._

And their bed was just big enough for the both of them, which meant Castiel woke up with Sam’s cock pressed up against his ass _every morning._

On Saturday morning, things turned out a bit different. Sam had Saturday and Sunday off of work and Castiel wouldn’t have to go back to school until Monday, so they were in no rush to wake up early. When Castiel finally grew alert to the morning’s arrival, he felt the familiar press of Sam’s body against his back.

Sam liked to ‘spoon’ as he called it — curling his stomach along Castiel’s spine when he felt cold. 

On a good day, Castiel felt claustrophobic from the clinginess, but every attempt he had ever made at wiggling free had been unsuccessful. 

Then of course there was the… _penis._ While Sam curled up against him, his hard cock was fitted perfectly against Castiel’s ass. Most mornings were like that, but they were usually followed by Sam waking and going to shower. Without the need to wake up early, Sam seemed to be in no rush to take care of his problem in the shower. Instead, he began a rhythmic rutting of his hips along the curve of Castiel’s ass — pressing a little closer with each thrust forward.

Deciding to make a quick getaway before things got awkward, Castiel slid forward, trying to pull out of his mate’s reach. Sam blocked the move, though, by wrapping his arm over Castiel’s stomach and pulling him back into the same spot he was in before.

_Damn._

Time for an awkward conversation, it seemed… “Sam?”

“Hmm?” 

Okay… that made it worse! The other man was _awake?_ “What are… what are you doing?”

Sam pressed his nose against the back of Castiel’s hairline. “Getting horny with my mate?”

Uh… “Oh,” he squeaked, voice giving out as he realized _exactly_ what that meant. _’I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’m notttt ready.’_

“Don’t be nervous,” Sam whispered.

Considering the fact that Sam _wasn’t_ the one that could expect to have a dick shoved up his ass, Castiel wasn’t sure he had room to talk. “I don’t think I’m ready for _that_ , yet.” 

There was a loud groan of aggravation or frustration (probably both) from Sam’s direction, before he pulled away and rolled onto his back on the other side of the bed. Castiel was hesitant, but he finally rolled over to look at his mate — making sure to avoid looking at the way the sheets were standing up farther down Sam’s body.

“You know,” Sam growled, “I thought that when I got mated, I’d be getting _more_ sex, not less.” He reached up a ran a hand through his already sleep-tousled hair. “What’s the point of you being here, Cas, if I’m just jerking off in the shower?”

_Companionship. Friendship… Love?_ Nope. _Sex._ “Forgive me for not being an overly experienced _raver._ ” Castiel stated, angrily as he sat up in bed. “I can’t help that I’m not excited about having a dick up my ass, when I just had an extremely invasive surgery less than a week ago!”

“Oh.” Sam frowned at the reminder of the surgery. “Right. I think one of the emails said no penetrative sex for two weeks.”

Now that Sam mentioned it — Castiel _did_ remember seeing that warning. “See?”

“But!” Sam sat up, a predatory smile on his face, “That doesn’t mean ‘no sex’, Cas.”

It didn’t? He frowned, “It doesn’t?”

“Ever given a blowjob?”

\---

When Dean stepped out of his bedroom Saturday morning, he immediately frowned at the sound of retching, coming from the kitchen. Walking that direction, his concern grew when he spotted Cas leaning over the sink and gagging, before moving back long enough to drink some water, and then spitting that out as well.

“Did the milk go bad?” Dean asked.

“Oh God!” 

Apparently it wasn’t the right thing to say, because the words alone had Castiel retching again. 

Dean moved away long enough to warm a washcloth in the bathroom, before bringing it back and laying it on the back of Castiel’s neck. For the time being, at least, it seemed like the younger man was able to control his stomach. “Not to make you feel bad, or anything, but can I ask why you chose to puke out here, instead of in your perfectly nice toilet?” Dean tilted forward enough to see a few dishes still in the sink… he was _not_ washing those.

Castiel took a long drink of water, before slumping against the counter. “I didn’t want to wake Sam back up.”

“That kid is still asleep? Damn. What a way to waste a day off.” Dean moved to the refrigerator so that he could find something in their rations for breakfast — being sure not to grab the milk, just in case. 

“He went back to sleep after…” Castiel’s words broke off. When Dean looked over to him, he was just staring into the half-empty glass of water.

“After?”

“He uh…” Castiel lowered his voice and whispered, “He called it a blowjob.”

A… _blowjob?_ Dean’s eyes widened and suddenly the gagging and retching in the sink made a hell of a lot more sense. “Shit. That bad?”

“Well,” Cas’ fingers twitched against his glass. “You know how we had broccoli for dinner last night?”

“Oh shit.” Dean didn’t have any personal experience, but he had heard enough stories to know _exactly_ why Castiel’s stomach had reacted badly. He stepped forward without thinking and wrapped his arms around Cas in a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why do people _do that?_ ”

“I don’t know. Supposedly it feels good?”

“Oh God… what if he makes me do it again?”

Dean shook his head, stepping back but keeping his hands firmly planted on Castiel’s shoulders. “You aren’t his sex slave, Cas. You have every right to say no, even if you are mates.”

“Right,” Castiel mumbled. “I’ll just have to fuck him, instead.”

“You could always ask him to do things for you,” Dean suggested. “You didn’t like _giving_ a blowjob, but maybe receiving one wouldn’t be so bad?

Castiel looked like he wasn’t going to believe Dean for a second. “Well, you know Sam better than I do — is that something he would actually do?”

Dean’s gaze immediately dropped to the floor and he took a step back. Even without answering out loud, they both knew the answer was no. After all, Sam was still pretty adamant that he didn’t _like_ dicks. So why would he willingly pleasure one?

The sound of the glass being set down on the kitchen counter brought Dean’s attention back to Castiel. The other man was walking across the room and reaching for his sweatshirt. Dean frowned, “Where are you going?”

“For a run. My body finally seems to be handling it’s _changes_ a little better, so I’m going to go clear my head.”

The words _’I could go with you’_ were almost out of his mouth, before Dean realized that no, he couldn’t. Because it wouldn’t be appropriate. He wasn’t Castiel’s mate. 

He wasn’t anything to Castiel. 

But hell, if he was… he would be on his knees faster than Castiel could even _say_ the word blowjob. 

Sam was stupid. A ripe idiot. What kind of person would turn down pleasuring a mate like Castiel, in favor of _women?_

Dean would take long lines of muscle and taut skin over voluptuous curves any day of the week.

His gaze flickered to Sam’s bedroom door, as the front door closed behind Castiel’s retreating form.

Maybe they could trade…

\---

“Have you ever heard of ARKCO accepting support personnel into the mating ring at a later date?”

It was never inherently smart to talk about ARKCO or the happenings of IES in private, but on a rations mission to Earth, Dean felt confident enough to ask his partner for an opinion. After all, the atmosphere didn’t exactly allow for hidden COMM devices that could record their conversation.

Across from him, sitting with her bright red hair pulled up into a ponytail, looked over from her cot across the room. It was a Wednesday evening, and they were on a forty-eight hour supply run to Earth — a mission that Dean didn’t usually sign up for, but he had needed a break from Sam and Castiel.

“Nope. On top of being _unfit_ , there’s the whole ‘past their prime’ aspect — ARKCO wants babies born to young parents because there’s a smaller risk of something going wrong,” Charlie answered. 

Dean nodded, because he had already known the answer before he even asked. “Do they um… do they do DNA tests on the newborns? To confirm parentage?” 

It shouldn’t be something that Charlie knew, off hand, but she had a very high scoring record of secretly dating nurses. “Shit,” She slid across the space between them to sit on Dean’s cot. “Did you get a carrier pregnant, Winchester?”

“No,” he shook his head. “No. I swear.”

“Then why the curiosity?”

With a frown, he pictured Castiel’s face the past few mornings. Apparently he had made an argument about not wanting to give Sam blowjobs — an argument that had been ignored. “Sam got mated.”

“Right,” Charlie nodded. “You told me about that. To a male, yeah?”

Dean nodded. “Cas. But… Sam’s not a fan of dick, if you know what I mean.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Charlie mused. When Dean didn’t immediately continue, she continued, “So he’s having problems getting it up for his mate and you want to step in as a sperm donor?”

“More like: he’s using his mate without returning or worrying about his mate’s pleasure, so I want to take over and let Sam get back to his raving and random chicks.”

“Ah.” Charlie sighed and slowly moved back to her own cot. “You have a thing for Sam’s mate.” He didn’t have to answer — it was probably written all over his face. “That isn’t how things work on IES, Dean. No matter how badly we want something.”

“It isn’t fair, Charlie,” he whispered, staring down at his dusty boots. “He’s such a good kid and Sam’s treating him like shit. And I love my brother, I do, but God I just want to hit him…”

“It’s my understanding that all new mates go through a period of time where they have to figure things out. But they do, eventually, figure it out. And where will you be then, Dean?” She shook her head and laid back on her cot. “Best to just let it work itself out.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding a DUBCON tag to this story -- it's come to my attention that TPTB in charge of IES (ARKCO) are definitely forcing poor Castiel and Sam into situations where they can't give their full consent.

ARKCO could change a man’s genetic make-up enough to allow him to get pregnant and carry a baby to full-term — but they had yet to figure out how to ease the actual sex for the male carriers. Rumors suggested that it was the next project scientists were working on — some kind of embedded membrane that could get wet just like a woman would when she was turned on. 

Until then, they supplied all male/male mates with a generous amount of water-based lubricant. 

In Castiel’s very honest opinion — they could send a whole case of lubricant and it still would not be enough.

“Fuck,” he gasped under his breath — for probably the third time in as many minutes. It hurt like a bitch… worse than anything he had ever felt before. “I don’t—” he groaned, as Sam tried to push forward once more, “I don’t think we’re doing this right.”

Sam’s ‘preparation’ efforts had been minimal, and Castiel figured a lot of that had to do with the fact that there was absolutely no attraction on Sam’s part. In fact, he had slipped into the bathroom just to get himself ‘started’ after Castiel refused to blow him first (he couldn’t handle that _and_ sex in the same night). Castiel had tried to prep himself at that point, but had quickly run out of time — and once Sam got back, he didn’t want to hesitate before getting to the main event, so that he didn’t lose his hard sought erection.

All it took was the head of Sam’s cock breaching his entrance, for Castiel to have enough. “Stop!” When his mate didn’t immediately pull away, Castiel reached back to shove him away. Sam fell onto his ass and looked up at Castiel in shock. “I said _stop._ ”

Before Sam could even get up off the floor, Castiel was locking himself into the bathroom and cleaning his ass with a wash cloth, before getting redressed. When he finally stepped back out into the bedroom, Sam was gone. _Good._

He grabbed a soft blanket from the chair by the window and wrapped himself in it, before going out to the living room and curling up on the sofa. There was no noise in the pod, so he assumed that Sam had left and he was blissfully alone for once.

A few days before, he had secluded himself in the library to do some research on ARKCO laws. He wanted to confirm something that he suspected, and when he saw it there in writing, a small part of him had settled into agonizing despair.

He had three months to get pregnant. After three months, if a carrier wasn’t with child, ARKCO sent out a representative to confirm fertility. At six months, a second representative was sent out to confirm that the mated couple was actually following protocol and having sex.

At nine months, if Castiel wasn’t pregnant, a committee would be assigned his case and decide whether disciplinary action needed to be taken.

Before getting his assignment as carrier, Castiel had never given much thought to the politics behind the system. As an unsuspecting youth, he had never seen a mated couple and thought _’those people are definitely miserable.’_ Even his own parents had never given off any indication that they didn’t like the system. 

Maybe he should start packing his bags for Earth…

The pod door suddenly slammed, and Castiel squeezed his eyes shut. If Sam was back and looking for an argument, Cas wasn’t sure he could handle it. He never liked arguing, and he definitely wouldn’t like it in reference to the activity of his ass.

Instead of Sam, a small package of chocolates was dropped onto the coffee table directly in his line of sight. He glanced up, not surprised at all to see Dean standing there — Sam would never bring him a gift. “How much did chocolate cost you?”

“I snagged it a couple weeks ago when I was on Earth. One of the commanders stationed there had a whole bowl full.”

“Well at least that’s something to look forward too, when they ship me there,” Castiel mused.

Dean sat down next to the chocolate and frowned. “Why would they ship you off to Earth?”

“Because I’m supposed to procreate for the good of the establishment, but the thought of having a dick up my ass sends me into a panic.” Castiel curled up tighter in his blanket, choosing to stare at the small package of candy, rather than Dean. “It was terrible, Dean. I don’t understand why people _do_ that.”

“Well, when it’s done right, parts of it feel pretty magical.”

“Oh.” Castiel couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at those words. He had assumed that Dean would be a virgin — even though there was no reason for him to be. Dumb fantasy, apparently. 

After a moment of awkward silence, Dean let out a nervous laugh and shook his head. “I haven’t… I haven’t been with anyone. I just…” his voice lowered to a whisper, “experimented a bit with myself.”

“What?” Castiel pulled himself up into a sitting position and stared at Dean in shock. As he tried to ignore the fact that Dean’s blush was probably the hottest thing he had ever seen, Castiel found himself asking, “For fun? Why would you do that?”

“Well the other guys talk… _a lot._ Most of them prefer women, but I have a few friends that are into other men. And you can only hear the words ‘prostate orgasm’ so many times, before you start getting curious.” Dean talked with his head ducked, hands moving nervously in his lap. “The first couple of times I shook my head and told myself it was terrible and I should really stop. Then I did some research and I found _the_ spot, and suddenly life was amazing.”

That seemed… odd. The idea of someone doing that for pleasure was a completely foreign concept to Castiel. Without thinking about the implications of it, he asked Dean, “Will you show me?”

Dean stuttered a bit at those words, looking up at Castiel in shock, before looking back down at his hands. “God, I want to, but we could get into so much trouble…”

“The way I look at it, Dean… I’m already on a one-track road to Earth at this point. I can’t — with Sam? I can’t, Dean.” Castiel leaned forward, moving into Dean’s space to get closer.

And the pod door opened. 

_Shit._ Castiel pushed back and looked towards the door, frowning at the sight of his mate.

Sam stepped into the pod, holding a small package in one hand, and a bouquet of habitat grown flowers. He nervously stepped forward, before moving his gaze from Castiel, to his brother. “Dean, could Cas and I have a moment alone?”

With one last glance at Castiel, Dean nodded and stood up, before closing himself in his bedroom. 

Sam took the spot that he had vacated and held the flowers out to Castiel. “I’m sorry about earlier. I know this is a pretty shitty situation that neither one of us wants to be in, so I just wanted to make it clear… I’m willing to make it work if you are.”

\---

Two weeks later, in the darkness of the pod, Castiel quietly crept from the room he shared with Sam and across the living room to Dean’s door. He didn’t knock. Instead, he let himself into the room quietly, before shutting the door behind him.

In the starlight, he made his way across the room towards the bed and sat down gingerly on the right side of it. A hand moved in the darkness, holding out a small envelope. Castiel took it, before smiling in the direction of where Dean sat on the other side of the bed.

“You’re sharing your PIE with me?” he whispered.

He couldn’t see the smile in the darkness, but he could hear it in Dean’s words. “Just one dip, or we might have a problem.”

With a soft chuckle, Castiel applied pressure to the ends of the envelope — forming a wider opening at the top, so that he could reach in for the small plastic spoon that came with every package. He used the spoon to scoop up a small amount of the powder, before dumping the powder on his tongue. As he handed the envelope back to Dean, he moaned appreciatively at the flavor burst on his tongue. “Holy shit,” he gasped, “I thought it was impossible to still get the peanut butter flavor. I haven’t had this since I was a kid.”

“I have a stockpile in my closet. Pull it out for special occasions.” Of course he did. “I told you that I love PIE,” Dean reminded him.

In all fairness… when sweets were a commodity on the space station where you lived, things like ‘powdered ice cream envelopes’ were the only thing you could love. 

Dean lean in the opposite direction, and from what Castiel could see, set the PIE envelope down on his bedside table. When he leaned back, his attention was completely on Castiel. “How did it go?”

“I’m sore,” Castiel replied. Just talking about it, reminded him of the ache in his ass, and he slid down the bed so that he was lying. “But the cream that he got worked… numbed everything through the process. That plus the lube, and I guess I survived.” He could hear Dean’s breathing change, but didn’t stop to question it. “I’m not doing it again until next month, though. If I’m not pregnant, then we’ll worry about it. But until then, Sam can deal with me sleeping in the other bedroom.”

The bed shifted as Dean snuggled down into the covers. “You can stay in here tonight, if you want. I’m pretty sure tomorrow is the morning Sam has to be at class bright and early. He probably wouldn’t even bother to check and see where you are.”

The idea sounded absolutely amazing. Over the past two weeks, as Sam and Castiel experimented with slowly getting Castiel used to anal penetration, Dean’s bedroom had become a bit of a safe haven. Being next to Dean, instead of Sam, meant no late nights waking up in a panic when he felt Sam’s erection. No nightmares about gagging on salty come or being stretched to his limits by probing fingers.

Even if the attraction between them boiled just beneath the surface… Dean was safe. Dean would never pressure him for the good of the station. 

Castiel pulled the blankets up over his body and turned to face the older man. In the starlight filtering into the room, Castiel could just make out the slightest sparkle of green in Dean’s eyes. He slid closer, leaning into Dean’s space and brushing his lips gently over the other man’s. It wasn’t much, by way of a kiss, but it was enough. Dean responded without hesitation, and after a slightly deeper kiss, Castiel pulled back with a smile and laid his head against Dean’s chest with a yawn.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.”

With the constant — mostly racing — sound of Dean’s heartbeating in his ear, Castiel was lulled quickly to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shakespeare can be blamed for the delay in this.

Sam had an early morning scheduled — despite the fact that he absolutely hated them. His current career track definitely didn’t bode well for people that enjoyed sleeping in. 

It didn’t escape his attention that the other side of the bed was empty. After the night before, he had figured that Castiel would sneak out of his room again. It really didn’t bother him — he knew that their current situation was one that neither wanted to be in. What was surprising, though, was that the spare bedroom’s door was still open. 

While his coffee brewed, Sam moved over to the doorway to check, and sure enough… the room was empty. With a frown, his gaze moved to the only door left closed. _Dean’s._

_’You shouldn’t,’_ a little voice said, in the back of his mind.

But he would. And he did. Making sure that Dean’s door didn’t make any noise, he gently pressed it open and glanced inside. 

Sam wasn’t surprised, really, to see Castiel curled up in Dean’s embrace. Though he might play dumb on a regular basis, Sam was intelligent enough to know that there was some sort of flaming brewing between Dean and Cas. 

And, ironically, it wasn’t jealousy that blossomed in the pit of his stomach. It was sadness — because ARKCO’s rules were holding back two people that obviously had feelings for each other. Besides, what was the point in being jealous of something that he didn’t even want? Castiel was a great guy, and could make a great friend, but Sam had _never_ wanted a relationship with a man. Even the night before, when he had finally managed to implant a _few_ seeds into Castiel’s womb — everything had happened thanks to medication. His erection was fake, Castiel’s reaction was fake… the whole mating was a farce. 

Stepping back, he closed Dean’s door just as quietly as he had opened it and moved to finish getting ready. 

He had walked halfway to work before his morning finally started to brighten. A familiar head of curly blonde hair sidled up beside him, nudging him hard enough to send him teetering towards the wall. 

“Good morning, stud muffin,” was thrown in his direction with the same hint of flirtatiousness that it always held. 

Sam smiled at his supervisor. Gabriella was the _epitome_ of rule breaker. When ARKCO had slapped a ‘support personnel’ classification on her, Gabby had shrugged and walked to the nearest rave. Sam still wasn’t sure how she kept such a low profile as a raver — enough to keep being promoted and thrust into supervisor positions. 

All he was certain of was the fact that in a skin-tight leather skirt and shimmering gold halter top — Gabriella was his best wet dream come to life.

He had been planning his move, biding his time to get with her, when _Castiel_ happened. 

Now he got to watch her daily and long for what might have been. 

They were scanned into the employee area of the hospital wing, and Sam followed Gabby towards the locker room, happily catching glimpses of her ass in the more work appropriate skirt that she was currently wearing.

“How’s the mate?” she question, moving towards her locker. 

Sam cursed at the reminder of what was waiting for him at home. “You mean my gay thing?” He shook his head and keyed the passcode into his locker. “Finally did the deed. Was as bad as I expected.”

“At least it prevents you from dealing with the Family Services assholes.” Gabby pulled on her labcoat and Sam glanced over just in time to watch her breasts jiggle. “Last year we had a murder/suicide in here — couple didn’t want to deal with being sent to Earth after they neglected to procreate. Big scandal.” She walked past him and slapped his ass. “Don’t let it happen to you, Sammy boy.”

\---

In the haze of mid-morning, Castiel laid in Dean’s bed and watched the other man sleeping. He seemed so calm — so at peace with the world around him.

Castiel was a bit jealous of it. His sleep had been plagued with nightmares of Earth for the last couple nights. 

Shaking off the thoughts, he brushed the sheets down to Dean’s waist and gently ran a fingertip along the bare skin of Dean’s arm — from the tip of his middle finger, all the way up to where the fabric of his short-sleeved shirt rested against his skin. Dean was tantalizing and just the slightest touch had Castiel remembering the kiss from the night before. 

He must have gotten lost in the rhythm of brushing up and down Dean’s arm, because the next thing he knew, Dean was rolling, bright eyes staring at Castiel as he turned to face him. “Having fun?”

Castiel ducked his gaze and pulled his hand back. “I found it… soothing.”

“So did I.” Dean yawned, raising his arm up to stretch out his back. When he was relaxed back against the pillow, he smirked, “But if I let you pet me any longer, I was going to have some very _hard_ explanations to deal with.”

Eyes glancing down Dean’s body, Castiel tried to fight a blush as he pulled away. Arousal was something very odd that he wasn’t experienced with. Sure, Sam would wake up with his hard dick pressed against Castiel’s ass — but that had only been the reaction of a warm body, not anything that Castiel had set out to do. When awake, Sam could never seem to get aroused just based on Castiel’s presence. 

“You’re thinking way too hard, Cas,” Dean whispered, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Castiel’s. “What are you contemplating so hard, angel?”

_That_ had Castiel rolling his eyes. “You promised no angel jokes!”

“I don’t think a well intentioned moniker counts as a _joke._ ” Dean winked. “Angel.”

Castiel shoved at his shoulder, causing Dean to roll back onto his back with a laugh. “I was beginning to think that I might like you, but I’ve since rethought that idea and moved on from it. Breakfast?”

Dean’s laugh followed him all the way out of the bedroom. 

If he thought that Dean’s antics would stop at the bedroom door, he was wrong. Castiel was mid-flip on a pancake, when Dean pressed right up against his back — diverting his focus and causing the pancake to turn into a lumpy mess on the stove. “You did that on purpose,” he mumbled under his breath.

Dean slid even closer, nuzzling his nose along the back of Castiel’s hairline and… _sniffing_ Castiel. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just reaching for a coffee cup.” To prove his point, his arm reached out over Castiel’s shoulder and grabbed a cup from where they hung under the cupboard. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for work?”

“Off today.”

“Maybe taking a shower?”

“Waiting for you to join me.”

“I heard the neighbors needed help with some furniture…”

“I heard the neighbor's having _sex._ ”

Castiel rolled his eyes and in an effort to push Dean back out of his personal space… shoved his ass backwards against the man.

_Bad idea._

That wasn’t a COMM device poking back at him. Pancakes forgotten, Castiel turned off the stove and spun around. Not surprisingly, Dean was _right there._ “What are you—” His question broke off when Dean’s lips found his. And the kiss was just like the night before except _better_ because the pain of sex with Sam wasn’t still nagging at his brain and Castiel could fully focus his thoughts on _Dean. Kiss. Hot._

A hand slid up to the dip in his hipbone, finding skin between his sleep pants and t-shirt. Realizing that he could touch, Castiel drug one hand through Dean’s short hair, while the other brushed along the soft muscle of Dean’s abdomen. Where Sam was hard lines and angles — Dean was soft in spots while still hiding the strength of a warrior. 

It was… _very nice._ And Castiel’s cock was beginning to agree. He shifted his hips as the kiss deepened, feeling the sweet pressure of Dean’s hardness pressing back. 

When Dean finally drew back, gasping for air but never pulling too far away from Castiel’s skin, Castiel was finally able to make some sense of what was happening.

“Should we be—-”

“Yes.” Dean’s lips latched onto Castiel’s neck, kissing, sucking, _biting._ He pulled away again, far enough to look Castiel in the eye. “If you were about to ask if we should be doing this, the answer…” he rolled his hips forward, “is yes.”

As Dean’s fingers brushed along the edge of Castiel’s pants, tickling just beneath the elastic, Castiel mounted one more protest. “But what about—” 

“Cas, if you tell me that you don’t want to do this because _you_ don’t want it, then I will stop. But if your argument is solely based on the feelings of my brother or the rule of a corporation, then shut up and kiss me.”

He took a moment to ponder the logic behind that, then shrugged and leaned forward to kiss Dean once more. He tried to use the technique that Dean had been, learning as they went — but his thoughts were knocked off course once more, when Dean shoved Castiel’s pants down and wrapped a firm grip around his hard cock.

His head fell back and he gasped, “ _Oh._ ” That was nice. That was… _very_ nice. He forced his attention back to what Dean was doing and watched as the older man used the pre-come at the tip of Castiel’s dick to slick his movements. It felt amazing, but he couldn’t help but notice the persistent bulge in Dean’s pants, as well. “You… you too?”

Dean groaned, obviously well on board with that idea. He leaned back slightly and glanced down, shoving his pants out of the way as well and freeing his cock. Bringing his right hand up, Dean spit into his palm — and Castiel didn’t have a moment to bawk at how _gross_ that was, before Dean was lining their dicks up and wrapping a slick hand around both of them.

_Yes._

“Shit,” Dean grunted, hips shifting, quickening the drag as he claimed Castiel’s lips again. 

It was good… no, _great_ , and Castiel wanted it just like that every single time. No pretense about procreation or government mandated attraction — just slick skin-on-skin contact and Dean’s lips against his own. 

There was no chance of it actually lasting as long as he wanted it to, but Castiel enjoyed every microsecond, anyways. Until finally he was _there_ , biting Dean’s bottom lip before gasping and surging up into the tight slide of Dean’s fist. He came with a shout, hips stuttering and mind blanking enough that he barely registered Dean following him over the edge. 

_Pure. Bliss._

With a strangled breath, Dean collapsed forward against him, resting his head on Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel felt strong arms wrapping around his waist, a moment before soft words were whispered against his skin.

“I think I might love you.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bottom!Dean ahead.

Castiel was beginning to believe that he could sit and watch Dean, with wire-framed glasses perched on his nose, read for hours. Add in the fact that they were sitting on Dean’s bed wearing nothing but their boxer-briefs, and Castiel was beginning to understand sexual attraction. 

Unfortunately, Dean wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he was being stared at, and after a couple more pages he closed his book and pull the glasses from his face — setting both on the bedside table. “Do you miss your parents?”

“Not really. I’ve talked to them on COMMs a few times, but they were very pro-ARKCO and felt that once their children hit eighteen, there was no need for future nurturing.” Castiel let his thumb dance slowly along his stomach. It would be another two weeks before he knew if he was successfully carrying a child and he wondered how being a parent would change him. “What about you? I’ve never heard you or Sam mention your parents.”

Dean’s eyes darkened and his gaze shifted away. “You know how every year we have to sit through a broadcast on the state of the station?” When Castiel nodded, Dean rolled his eyes. “The man that has given that speech for the past ten years? John Winchester.” Dean looked back to Castiel, and something in the younger man’s gaze must have said he didn’t fully get it yet. “Our dad. The one and only.”

“Oh.” Castiel frowned, processing that information. He didn’t know much about the people in charge of ARKCO, but he knew that John Winchester must be important if he was giving the SOTS speeches. That explained how Sam got away with being a raver and not getting arrested.

But it didn’t explain how Dean got labeled with the ‘support personnel’ classification. 

Dean seemed to know what he was thinking. “John Winchester would never make exceptions for his own sons’ classifications.”

“But Sam’s raving?”

“Parents can say they don’t pick favorites, but…”

With a sad nod, Castiel rolled towards Dean and laid his head on the other man’s shoulder. “He has no control over what happens in this room.”

“True.” Dean allowed Castiel to distract his brain with a few well intentioned kisses.

\---

Around dinner time, they got a message from Sam that he would be out late ‘studying’. “Code for rave,” Dean mused. Since his mate wouldn’t be back for the evening, Castiel had no problem going right back to Dean’s bedroom. He was watching a movie while Dean showered and barely blinked when the other man came back into the room.

Except Dean didn’t go back to his side of the bed — instead, he straddled Castiel’s waist and smiled happily down at him. “You weren’t watching that, were you?”

Castiel looked over the naked expanse of Dean’s body, from his strong shoulders to his hard cock, jutting out between them. “No, I guess not.” His own dick started to react to the pressure of Dean resting against it, and he pulled the older man down for a kiss.

Distracted by the kiss, Castiel barely felt the way Dean tugged his underwear down and freed his cock — but there was no denying the sensation of Dean’s ass brushing over him. And was that…? “Dean?” With a wicked smirk, Dean reached behind him to grasp Castiel’s cock and line it up with his already slicked hole. “Oh, Jesus Christ!” Castiel growled, head thrown back at the first feel of Dean’s tight ass wrapped around his cock.

“Yes,” Dean moaned, wiggling his hips and sinking inch-by-sweet-inch down Castiel’s cock. “So _fucking_ good.”

Castiel’s hips surged up of their own accord, closing the distance between their bodies and sinking into the hilt. “Thought,” he gasped, “thought you were _showering._ ”

With a wicked smile, Dean rolled his hips once more and met Castiel’s heated gaze. “I may have gotten distracted by the thought of your cock.”

Considering how terrible it had felt for Castiel to have Sam’s cock up his ass, it was hard to imagine Dean actually _enjoying_ it, but there was absolutely no denying the fact that the man was doing just that. He started a slow shift up and down and Castiel gave up trying to hold his head upright and watch. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” he forced himself to whisper. He’d like to ignore the feeling in his gut telling him that Dean was only bottoming because he obviously thought Castiel wouldn’t. Had he somehow coerced Dean into doing this? “Dean…”

“I _want_ this, Cas,” Dean answered on a whimper. He had obviously found a spot deep inside of him that was _good_ , because he kept the same shift of his hips, and his cock drooled happily onto Castiel’s stomach. “Wanted you. All of you.”

There was something obscenely erotic about Dean offering himself up without hesitation. Sitting on Castiel’s cock like he had nowhere else he’d rather be in the universe. Castiel’s hand moved along Dean’s hip, before he allowed his thumb to brush along the soft pudge of Dean’s lower abdomen. 

“Want my babies, Dean?” He thrust up, meeting Dean’s downward motion and smiling with a glint in his eyes. “Want me to fill you up? Have everyone wondering _‘how’_? Imagine what Daddy would say when his perfect little soldier showed up with a swollen belly.”

It was impossible, of course. Dean couldn’t get pregnant without the carrier surgery — but that wasn’t the point. The idea of such a rebellious act taking place, was enough to send Dean reeling.

“Fuck, Cas!” He cried out and barely had a hand wrapped around his dick before he was coming, streaks of white landing on Castiel’s stomach.

The tight heat squeezing even tighter had Castiel’s eyes rolling back in his head. “Gonna fill you up, Dean,” he growled, a moment before he followed Dean over the edge.

Ten minutes later, after they were both cleaned up and snuggled into the sheets, Castiel placed a lazy kiss on Dean’s lips. “You would have been the best carrier I could ever ask for, Dean.”

In the dark light of the bedroom, it was easy to pretend he didn’t see unshed tears in Dean’s eyes, as he wrapped his arms around the older man and held him close.

\---

The next morning, Dean stood in the bathroom examining his body in the mirror. He had twenty minutes to finish getting ready and haul ass down to his workstation, but he continued to stare at his own reflection. Castiel’s words rang out in his mind. _’Want my babies, Dean?’_ He had never imagined that he would get turned on by such a simple idea. Sure, he had always secretly longed for a companion — but had never really thought about being a carrier instead of a giver.

Castiel was right about one thing, though, John Winchester would have blown a gasket if one of his sons had ended up a carrier. 

Shaking off his thoughts, Dean finished getting dressed in his uniform, and slid back out of the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible so that he didn’t wake a still-sleeping Castiel. Out in the heart of the pod, he grabbed a cup of coffee and a muffin, before startling at the sudden appearance of Sam in the entryway. “G’morning.”

Sam mumbled a reply and brushed past Dean to get to the coffee pot. The smell of perfume was thick and cloying and Dean rolled his eyes at his younger brother’s antics.

“If they catch you—”

“Little hypocritical,” Sam mumbled, “when you’re fucking my mate.”

Dean had nothing to say to that, so he shrugged and carried his breakfast out of the pod, on his way to work.

\--- **Two Weeks Later** \---

It was typical to schedule a follow-up appointment with the medical staff roughly 3-4 weeks post-surgery. In theory, this left enough time for a one week recovery and then subsequent impregnation. If there was no pregnancy after that first two to three weeks, the carrier knew to start trying harder.

Castiel walked into his appointment feeling both weary and a sense of foreboding. He hadn’t felt well for a few days, and though he would like to chalk it up to just nervousness about the appointment, he knew that the odds were he was with child and starting to suffer from side effects.

After a quick stop to do a blood draw and check his vitals, Castiel was shown into one of the private rooms of the clinic. It took fifteen minutes of fidgeting before one of the doctors finally walked into the room carrying a chart. 

“Hello, Castiel, how are you feeling?”

He looked up at the friendly female face and forced his own smile. “Little nauseous and nervous?”

“All completely normal.” She sat down on a stool and slid a paper from the file folder she held, before handing it to Castiel. “Castiel, I’m afraid you and I are going to become well acquainted over the next few months… of your pregnancy.”

His stomach sank. It was equal parts good news and bad news — on the one hand, he wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not ARKCO was going to come knocking on his door demanding a pregnancy. And he wouldn’t have to continue his ruse of a relationship with Sam for at least a year. But… there was also the feeling of dread, knowing that he was just another statistic in favor of ARKCO’s controlling ideologies. He was statistical proof that their system worked.

“Do you have any fears that we should discuss?” The doctor asked, eyes concentrated on the reactions playing over his face.

_Fears._ “Do things ever go wrong?”

It wasn’t the most original question, he supposed. The doctor act like she heard it from every new patient that walked through the door. “A small percentage of carrier pregnancies develop issues resulting in miscarriage, but with your genetic make-up, I don’t foresee any problems.”

He sighed. 

A few more basic questions and Castiel was walking out of the clinic office carrying a booklet on what to expect in the first few weeks of his pregnancy. And hell if that word wasn’t going to be hard to get used to saying.

“Cas?”

At the sound of his name being called, Castiel turned and stared down the adjoining hall to his right. “Sam.” His mate was dressed in scrubs and carrying a food container — obviously on his way to find a place to sit and eat lunch. 

Surprisingly, Castiel hadn’t spoken to his mate in almost a week. Apparently after the initial procreation event, Sam found it okay to go back to his raves. 

Since it left more time for Castiel and Dean to be together — there would be no complaints on the matter from Castiel.

“What are you doing here? You’ve never come to see me at work before; is everything okay? Dean?” Sam stepped closer, worry etched on his face.

“Oh, um, yeah. Everything is fine.” Castiel motioned to the door behind him. “Mandatory check-up.”

Sam looked to the door and obviously knew what type of ‘check-up’ happened in the clinic beyond. “Ohhh. Are you—”

“Sammy!” A pretty blonde called from the other side of the hall, interrupting Sam’s sentence. “Come on, hotcakes, those meals taste disgusting cold!”

Castiel tilted his head and observed the woman — from her well-endowed bosom to her way-too-short-to-be-regulation skirt. If he was going to imagine the perfect woman for Sam, the one standing at the end of the hall would be pretty damn close.

“That’s Gabriella. My boss.”

“I have to get back.” Considering the complete lack of feelings between himself and his mate (not to mention whatever was happening with _Dean_ ), Castiel couldn’t explain why he felt a gut-wrenching jealousy. Hormones, maybe? 

He turned to leave, happily ignoring Sam’s cries of, “Wait, Cas!”

It was only after stepping into the familiar comfort of their pod, that he realized he should have told Sam about the baby.


	8. Chapter 8

There was something to be said about walking the line and hoping that things didn’t go to shit.

To be fair — Dean and Sam had toed along that line for so many years that it was bound to backfire eventually. 

A month after his first time with Castiel, Dean walked out of his bedroom one morning and found himself staring at the shit on the fan.

Or, more accurately, John Winchester sitting on the sofa in the living room. 

Considering how old he was, it was pretty ridiculous that Dean could still feel a cold shiver running down his spine when he saw his father’s face. He looked over his shoulder, back towards his bedroom, wondering if Castiel had left before his father arrived, or after.

“Don’t worry,” John finally spoke, sipping from a coffee cup. “Your lover had slipped out before I got here. They’ll live to fuck another day.”

_Good._ If John was using the term ‘lover’ then he obviously had no idea about Castiel. Dean bypassed his father and moved into the kitchen to find breakfast. “You know if you’re going to visit, you could at least bring some of the good coffee to share.”

“I came to talk to you about your brother.” 

Dean dropped the ration packet onto the counter and gripped the edge, taking a deep breath. His whole childhood had been filled with John Winchester arguments — and if he expected those would end once he had his own pod, he had obviously been mistaken.

“What about him?”

John stood, moving closer to where Dean was. “There was a security raid on one of his _rave_ parties last night. I didn’t find out about it until this morning.”

_Shit._ Dean felt his blood run cold.

Without waiting for a reply, John continued. “Normal protocol upon finding a mated man in such a compromising position is to punish him rather severely.” Dean could hear the meaning behind John’s words. _Earth._ “But I pulled some strings.”

Of course he did. Dean looked up at John, before letting his eyes trail over to Sam’s bedroom door. “Where is Sam?”

“Sam and Castiel have been temporarily reassigned to a different pod.” John finished his coffee and set the cup on the counter. “It’s the high security wing. In an effort to _recondition_ mates that don’t show interest in each other, we offer them the opportunity to live in a monitored environment.”

“ _Offered._ ” Dean spit out, feeling his stomach roll. “Is that what you call forced rape?”

An angry hand slammed down on the countertop, causing Dean to jump. “It was this or Earth, Dean,” John growled. “And a lot of people were arguing that Earth would be a better option. It would tell the general population that even residents with friends and family in high places, weren’t above deportation.”

Dean glared up at his father. God, if looks could kill… “How is any of this fair to Castiel? He had no part in Sam’s raves.”

“If Castiel was a better mate, Sam wouldn’t have gone looking elsewhere.” John relaxed a bit, taking a step towards the door. “Don’t worry. The general consensus is that after the baby arrives, rehabilitation will have successfully happened and they’ll be allowed to move back here.” Dean didn’t miss the roll of his father’s eyes as he glanced around the pod, “Heaven forbid a soldier have to man up and wipe his own fucking tears.”

_Baby._ Dean ignored his father’s angry words in favor of asking, “Castiel is pregnant?”

“He is. Congratulations, Dean. You’re going to be an uncle.”

\---

There were no bedrooms in the new pod. It was one large space — kitchen area on one wall, a sofa and small shelf of books in one corner, and the bed against the opposite wall of the kitchen. The only space that allowed for ‘privacy’ was the bathroom.

The only room without a _camera_ was the bathroom.

So that’s where Castiel hid.

“You can’t stay in there forever,” Sam called from the other room. “Eventually we have to talk.”

_No._ Castiel shook his head, sitting curled in a ball in the corner of the bathroom.

That wasn’t going to happen.

\---

Over the next week, Castiel found that sleeping in the bathtub was was better than sleeping next to his ‘mate’. Sam was still allowed four hours a day to leave under supervision and go to work; Castiel, however, had been brought his study materials and wasn’t allowed to leave without a damn good reason.

So, because of Sam’s actions, Castiel was a prisoner. 

A week, to the day, after their arrival and the prison-pod (there really wasn’t any better name for it, in Castiel’s eyes), Sam came home accompanied by a lanky brunette woman in a well-polished uniform. 

Castiel was in the middle of making a cup of tea when they walked in. His eyes darted from the two standing in the doorway, to where the bathroom door was. How would the obviously official woman handle seeing him locking himself in the bathroom? 

Considering that he was the prisoner in the whole deal — probably not well.

“Castiel,” the woman greeted, moving into the room like she owned the place and taking a seat on the sofa. “Why don’t you and Sam come have a seat on the bed here, so we can have a conversation?”

Oh good. _Conversion therapy._

Once they had both sat down — leaving as much of a gap between their bodies as possible — the woman crossed her hands on her lap and gave them an overly polite smile. “I’d like to introduce myself to you both. My name is Bela and ARKCO has asked me to be your mateship therapist.”

Sam ran an uneasy hand along the back of his neck. “That’s a thing?”

“It is,” Bela replied with a nod. “I’m here to help make sure that your mateship is a success. We’ll meet together three times a week, for two to three hours. In that time we’ll discuss your feelings for one another, your ideas about the future, and your sexual relationship.” 

Castiel felt like he was going to throw up. “Excuse me… our _sexual relationship_?”

“Correct. A proper mateship hinges on an active sexual relationship. Based on Sam’s activities and what we’ve seen so far on the footage,” she motioned towards the cameras around the room, “you two aren’t developing a proper relationship. Would you like to tell me why that is, Castiel?”

Yep. Definitely going to throw up. Without even enough time to dash for the bathroom, Castiel lunged for the trash can sitting by the sink.

While he lost whatever meager amount of food he had been able to eat that day, he could hear Sam and Bela talking behind him. 

“Castiel and I… well…” Sam hesitated, “I never thought my mate would be male.”

Castiel shoved the trash can away and slumped back against the cupboard, wiping at his mouth as he listened to Bela’s reply. 

“That happens, sometimes. Unfortunately all mateships are decided upon from a molecular standpoint — which two genetic entities will provide the strongest offspring. Gender does not factor into that equation.” From across the room, Castiel could make out a smile plastered on Bela’s face. “But, don’t despair. I’m used to receiving that answer in these types of situations and ARKCO has come up with a treat—”

“What’s the fucking point?” Castiel growled. “I’m pregnant. We successfully mated. We don’t need to have _sex_ until I’m able to get pregnant again.”

“ARKCO’s view is that a healthy sexual relationship will lead to a closer bond.”

“And we get no say in that?”

Bela stood, walking across the room and towering over him. In that moment, Castiel was reminded of all the times he had been reprimanded as a child. When she spoke again, Bela’s voice was tainted with venom. “I’m positive that they could find a seat for you on the next ship to Earth, if you’d rather.” Castiel blanched at the thought, causing her to nod. “That’s what I thought. I’ll get the treatment and when I’m back in two days, I expect you to be a little more open to the process.” Castiel preferred to blame the hormones of his pregnancy on the fact that at that moment, tears started to spring to his eyes. Bela wasn’t done, though. She moved to the front entrance of the pod and opened the door for a couple of burly looking support personnel. “One more thing, Castiel… no more hiding from your mate.”

And with those final words, Castiel watched in horror as the men used a couple of wrenches and removed the door from the bathroom. His one spot of sanctuary was now _gone._

They carried the bathroom door out of the pod, leaving a shell-shocked Castiel and Sam sitting in silence.

\---

Two days later, Bela delivered a ‘welcome home’ gift of sorts. It contained various containers of lubricant, a few phallic-shaped toys, a pair of restraints (“Those are for you, Sam, in case Castiel isn’t a willing participant.”), and their new medication regimen. She informed them that the guards would come in every morning to check that they were taking the proper dosage with breakfast — no exceptions.

She gave them the first dosage right then, and left without any explanation in regards to what they were taking and what the reaction would be.

Two minutes after she had left, Sam moved over to the box and pulled out the pair of restraints. Castiel’s eyes bulged and he immediately backed into the corner. “No. No. No. Please, Sam, _please_ no.”

Sam carried the restraints into the bathroom, and Castiel could hear a shuffling. Fear was coursing through his veins, but curiosity had him stepping over to the doorway and peering inside. 

Standing on the edge of the bathtub, Sam leaned one hand against the wall to hold himself steady, and had used the other to pull open the ventilation grate at the top of the wall. With a quick glance towards Castiel, Sam used all of his strength and tossed the restraints as far into the vent as he could. Once he had closed the grate and stood back on the floor, he turned to Castiel.

“I will _never_ force you, Castiel. I refuse to tie you down and rape you, just to play their game.” There was a quiver in Sam’s voice, and Castiel caught the hint of tears in his eyes. 

Without thinking, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Sam. “ _Thank you,_ ” he whispered.

Sam held him just as tight. “I’m so sorry. This is all… it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t been at that fucking rave…” He was crying now, tears landing on Castiel’s shoulder. 

“I know. But… I was no better. God. Dean and I…”

He shook his head, unable to even think about what Dean must be going through. And how would ARKCO have reacted if they had found out about Castiel’s relationship with the other man? They couldn’t force him into a similar prison-pod in hopes of rehabilitation. Not without a mate. He would have been shipped straight to Earth without any question.

“Fuck.” Castiel shuddered at the thought and looked up at Sam’s face. “If Dean and I had been caught, they would have…”

“I know.”

“How could we have been so fucking stupid?” Castiel shook his head, making his mind up. “I’m never touching him again. I couldn’t live with myself if he got shipped away because of me.”

\---

Across the station, Dean answered a knock at his pod door to find his commanding officer standing on the other side.

His CO’s face was the epitome of no-nonsense as he motioned into the pod. “Gear up. We’ve been requested for a mission to Earth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides*


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. I didn't allow myself to write while working on the end of the school term. But now it is summer time! Woo! 
> 
> Also of note: I'm seeking out a reliable beta/muse/sounding board that would enjoy spending time chatting and babysitting me while I write. I know it seems like I post this constantly (at least to me it does) but I've yet to find the perfect fit.

It took exactly four hours before their medication kicked in. Castiel was curled on his side on the bed, after a mediocre dinner that hadn’t tasted well and immediately made his stomach upset.

Except it may not have been the food that was making him ill. 

It started with a tingle. Like ants racing beneath his skin. 

Within minutes it was much more than that. His cock was rock hard and he felt a need washing over his entire body. When he managed to turn his head enough to look over to where Sam sat on the sofa, he noticed that his mate seemed to be experiencing similar side effects (judging by the tent in his pants). 

Castiel moaned, skin flushed hot as he quickly began stripping out of his clothes. “Sam,” he gasped.

From across the room, Sam groaned. “I know.” He stood, moving closer and hovering at the edge of the bed. “I don’t want to force you, Castiel.”

Tossing his pants aside in a flurry, Castiel wrapped a hand around his hard-as-a-rock dick and choked out a sob as he thrust up into his fist. “Don’t care. _Please, Sam._ ”

While Castiel was busy touching himself, Sam ditched his own clothing before crossing the room to the ‘goody basket’ Bela had left them. He pulled out a bottle of lubricant, before moving back to the bed. After placing the lube on the other side of the bed, Sam crawled over Castiel’s body and leaned down to kiss his mate.

It quickly became apparent that whatever was in their medication, the effects were dulled when in close proximity to each other. Sam’s lips moved down to Castiel’s neck and his hand brushed gently along his lower abdomen. His mate’s touch on the spot where their child was growing, had Castiel shivering for a whole other reason.

“Cas?” Sam whispered.

Fingers brushing over the shaved side of Sam’s hair, Castiel blinked away the momentary lust and focused on his mate. “Yeah?”

“I think we should switch roles this time.”

The words were so muffled by kisses, that Castiel couldn’t seem to make his brain understand what he had heard. “Huh?”

Sam’s hand stroked the length of Castiel’s cock. “They want us to mate… _fine._ But we get to decide who fucks who, right?”

“ _Shit._ ” Castiel’s hips surged up and his entire body shivered at the idea. “You’d let me?”

In answer, Sam reached out for the lubricant, grabbed Castiel’s hand, and placed the bottle in his hand. “You were right. I can’t expect you to readily agree to this if I don’t know how it feels.”

With a nod, Castiel traced his free hand over Sam’s bare ass. “Move over. Hands and knees.” His mate did as told, moving to the other side of the bed and pulling himself up onto his hands and knees. Castiel took a moment to admire Sam’s svelte form, before settling between his legs and trailing kisses along his lower back. “Just relax, okay?”

Sam’s only answer was a moan and a push back against Castiel’s touch. Despite the burning beneath his skin, Castiel made sure to take his time opening and preparing Sam. He knew from experience just how important that part of the process was. When he tweaked his fingers just right and found Sam’s prostate, he watched with satisfaction as his mate’s entire body shuddered. 

“I’m _ready_ ,” Sam gasped, “Please, Cas.”

“A little more,” he replied, leaning forward for more kisses as he worked one more finger into Sam’s tight hole. The idea of Sam being a whimpering, needy mess, was definitely endearing — and in his drug addled brain, he couldn’t even be bothered with questions about how Dean was, or where the other man might be at that moment.

Everything was just _Sam._

Finally, once he felt like his mate was ready, Castiel reached for the bottle of lubricant once more and coated his cock generously, before pressing in closer to Sam. “Ready for me?”

Sam grunted, muffled words barely audible as an answer, but the way he shifted and rocked his ass back against Castiel’s cock was definitely some kind of answer.

With a smile, Castiel guided his cock slowly into the warm heat of his mate. “Fuck, so good.”

\---

Twelve hours after the transport landed on Earth, Dean knew something was wrong. Every time his commanding officer gave him instructions, he noticed a few minutes later that everyone else in his company were following different instructions. And then things went from bad to worse.

His radio crackled and the voice of his CO could be heard. “Dean, grab the medkit and meet us at…” 

Dean quickly scratched down the coordinates on his hand, before moving to grab his pack and the medkit. He had been setting up the sleeping tents while everyone else unloaded the rest of the transport a few clicks away — and though he hadn’t heard any sounds of violence, any call for the medkit could not be a good one.

He quickly ran across the small hill that blocked his view, frowning at the noise that he could suddenly hear. “ _No._ ” When the clearing came into view, he had enough time to see Charlie being held back as the transport doors slid closed. The look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, as the transport engine got louder and suddenly the small ship began to rise.

“No!” He screamed, dropping his pack and making a run for the ship. The effort was completely futile. They weren’t leaving him behind by accident. They had called his radio so that he would _see_ their ship leaving and know what was happening.

“Fuck! You can’t — you can’t do this to me!”

The sight of the ship taking off and hitting full speed to leave the atmosphere clearly said that they _could_ and they _would._

Dean dropped to the ground, knees hitting the soft soil of Earth as realization dawned on him.

They’d left him behind. A move that was only made upon the approval of his father. So clearly the man had decided that giving up one son — the kid who had been deemed no better than _support personnel_ — was better than both. With Dean out of the picture, it would be much easier to change Castiel’s thoughts on Sam. And how easy would it be to claim he had died while on Earth? Spin some tale to Sam about meeting insurgents on Earth and Dean being caught in the crossfire.

“Shit.”

At least they had been kind enough to leave him with a tent and medkit.

Dean allowed himself five minutes to sit and mourn the life that had just been ripped away from him. He would never see his brother again. He would never see Castiel again. He would never meet his brother’s children.

When the five minutes were up, he dusted himself off and walked back to camp, picking up his dropped pack and medkit on the way. He went over a list in his head of things he had to do next. Most importantly: ration what little food he had. After that, he needed to secure his camp and make sure he was prepared for any predators that might come hunting for him once nightfall hit. 

His other pressure was to make sure he knew exactly where he was on Earth. Which was… _difficult._ Mainly because Earth Studies classes had always been his least favorite in school. He knew that he was on an island. A large island, judging by the way it looked from the sky, somewhere in the northern hemisphere. Thankfully they hadn’t landed in one of the desert areas — he definitely wouldn’t have survived there for long. As it was, the current temperature was mild, but would probably get a bit colder once night hit. 

It didn’t matter how much he knew or didn’t know, though. Unless he could find a way to hunt (which required finding animal life — something he’d hardly ever seen in his previous trips to Earth), he would run out of food _very_ quickly.

“And then I’ll be dead just like all the other idiots that get shipped to Earth as punishment.”

\---

Like clockwork, every four hours, Sam and Castiel would end up naked and writhing on the bed together. It was overwhelming, and when they tried to stay apart, the symptoms would get worse. After three days of that, Bela finally came in with a new medication.

“The science guys took pity on you.” She laid the containers on their countertop. “With this new dosage, you’ll be able to make it through eight hours apart and Sam can get back to his regularly scheduled duties.”

“And me?” Castiel asked from his spot on the bed.

“Ahh yes. Your main focus is to make sure the precious child you’re carrying stays healthy. On top of that, we will bring you some reading and learning materials to continue your studies.”

“But I’m not to leave.”

“No.”

After that meeting, Castiel stopped talking to Bela. It was futile to even try when all ARKCO saw him as was a walking womb. 

One day, a week later, Sam came back to their room looking distraught. They still had another two hours before the medicine kicked in, so Castiel couldn’t quite figure out the reasoning. His mate grabbed his hand, though, and quickly pulled him into the bathroom where there weren’t cameras.

“Cas,” he whispered, voice broken.

“What? What is it?”

“One of Dean’s friends snuck in to see me today. She feigned being sick, so that she could make it happen.”

The way that Sam spoke, had Castiel’s nerves jumping even more. No. No. No… “What is it, Sam?” he demanded.

Sam ran a haggard hand through his hair, glancing back at the open doorway of the bathroom, before meeting Castiel’s gaze once more. “When we were brought here, they told Dean that he had a mission to Earth. The thing is… it was a hoax. A set up.”

“ _Sam._ ”

“They left him there, Cas. They left Dean on Earth.”

\---

There was one thing that, despite circumstance, Dean would always consider the best part of Earth. When the sun dropped below the horizon, and night took over, there was nothing more beautiful than looking up at the stars from the terra firma below.

On his first night of banishment, Dean looked up into the dark sky and saw the large bright light that he knew was no planet or star. That was his home — the place where he had grown up. Where his brother was at that very moment, probably going about life without even realizing that Dean was gone.

Tears started to fall as he sat outside his tent and stared up at the IES. Would he be there if he had kept his hands to himself? Would his father have punished him for his brother’s actions even if Dean _hadn’t_ fallen for Castiel?

Probably.

A twig snapped to his left, and Dean had his firearm aimed before his next breath left his body.

“At ease, soldier.” A tall man stepped into the clearing, followed by a few others. They all held their hands up in the universal sign of peace. The one in front smiled. “We intercepted some COMM chatter. Heard you got left behind. Welcome to Earth, son.”


	10. Chapter 10

_London._

Dean shifted his pack and stared at the the handwritten letters on a large wooden sign. Beyond the sign, the remnants of an old city could be seen on the horizon. Crumbling buildings, vine covered walls, roots rising through old streets. In his previous ventures to Earth, he had only seen small glimpses of ‘towns’ … never anything as large as the city he was currently looking at. 

The crowd of five people walking around him had allowed him to keep his weapon, despite the fact that most of them didn’t carry anything similar. The leader of the group — a man who introduced himself as Jesse — had a rifle slung over his back, but hadn’t once reached for it. In fact, when Dean had first looked it over with a questioning, nervous, look, Jesse had shrugged and informed him that it was mostly for animals.

In the heart of London, Jesse had said, was a large civilization of people that had been cast out of IES… and even a few that had been born on Earth. Dean was a bit shocked, half a dozen pre-mission lectures about the extreme dangers of Earth flashing through his mind.

Were the ones in charge really that stupid? Or, were they lying to the people on board IES, in order to keep their rule secured.

Dean snorted at the very thought. Of course they knew! There was no way they controlled that many people without knowing _everything._

“So, what's your story?”

The voice startled him out of his thoughts, and Dean turned to see another man walking next to Jesse. 

“What?” Dean questioned.

“Your story. What made them abandon you?”

Before Dean could reply, Jesse sent the man a warning look. “Cesàr, you know we aren't supposed to ask him questions before we get to the city.”

“Well, I'm bored and feeling naughty, and you didn't put out last night.” Cesàr gave Dean a wink, before pouting at Jesse. “It's another three clicks to the center, just a couple questions?”

Jesse let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine.”

And then both gazes were on Dean and he almost stumbled over a damn rock, before getting his shit together and remembering the question. “I uh…” he frowned, suddenly remembering exactly why he’d been left behind. Had they punished Castiel and Sam, as well? Or just hoped that Dean’s removal would bring the mates closer together? “I fell for my brother’s mate.”

“Tough,” a voice from the back of the group called out.

They walked on for a few minutes, before Jesse gently nudged Dean’s elbow. “Earth is much nicer than they make it out to be, trust me. You’ll like it here.”

\---

In the middle of crumbling buildings, what the people in Jesse’s group had referred to as the ‘center’ slowly started to become noticeable. One building stood out as newer, standing only a couple of stories tall, but definitely looking more sound in it’s construction than the ones surrounding it. Dean kept a twitchy hand on his sidearm, but knew that he was already greatly outnumbered, and would never be able to fight his way out if he needed to.

But then again, what was the point in fighting? If they decided to kill him, it would just be speeding up a process that would eventually happen out on his own.

As they got closer to the center, suddenly Dean stopped walking and watched the scene unfolding in front of him. Despite IES’s number one goal being strategic repopulation… it was rare to see kids out and about just _playing._ So when they got to the base of the building and a group of ten or so kids went running past, chasing each other and squealing in delight, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

“Generation three,” Jesse mused, stopping next to Dean. “Born exclusively on Earth and a bunch of hellions if you ask me.”

Suddenly, one of the kids stopped dead in his tracks and spun towards them. “Daddy! Papa!” The boy ran their way, fluffy dark brown curls bouncing on top of his head. 

As he got closer, Jesse kneeled down and held his arms out, catching the boy and swooping him up into his arms. “Hey, son.” 

Cesàr stepped up a moment later and kissed the boys forehead. “Were you good, Lucas?”

“Yes, papa,” the boy answered immediately.

Dean smiled at the exchange, before something suddenly occurred to him. If Lucas was Jesse and Cesàr’s son, then one of them was a carrier… what had they done to get shipped to Earth?

He didn’t get a chance to ask… not that he would have had the nerve anyway. A large door on the main center building opened and a man waved them forward. Jesse put Lucas back on the ground and shooed him away to join his friends, before motioning for Dean to proceed the group into the building.

After a lifetime on IES, it was weird to be surrounded by walls that were more earth than metal. _Wood._

“Dean?”

He startled at the sound of his name being called, and when he looked ahead to a large staircase, he stared in shock at the person stepping off the last stair and rushing towards him. _Holy shit._ He caught the older woman as she wrapped him up in a hug and mumbled in disbelief, “Jody?”

She stepped back, a wide smile on her face as she laid her hands on his shoulders and stared at him. “Oh my goodness, look at you! Grew up well, I see.”

Just hearing her talk reminded him of all the moments he’d spent as a child nestled in her care, and he surged forward to hug her again. “I thought you were _dead._ He told us you were dead!”

Jody pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and stepped back. She kept her arm around him though, as she guided him towards the stairs. “I found out more than John wanted me to know, so he had me sent here. Thankfully, there were others around to find me.”

When Dean and Sam’s carrier parent had died during Sam’s birth, Jody had been brought in as the support personnel that took care of them while their father was working. John, of course, had no need to find a new carrier when he had the two children that IES required. 

Jody was all he remembered of a mother. He had been too young to keep memories of his carrier — and any time he asked John about the person, he was quickly shot down, sent to his room without an answer. Hell, he didn’t even know the carrier’s gender.

As Jody lead him upstairs, Dean was rendered speechless. The day had just been too much — with being left behind and then found, and now finding Jody alive and well? He felt like his sense were in a bit of overload. Hell, part of him even wanted to sit down and cry… maybe while curled securely in Jody’s arms.

“The boss wants to meet you, eventually, but for now,” Jody whispered, pushing a door open, “we’ll set you up in here for the night and let you rest. I’m sure this is all a bit overwhelming.”

He looked up at the plain room, a bed shoved into one corner next to a dresser, an open doorway to what looked like a bathroom. His backpack slid off his shoulders and landed on the floor with a thud, like a heavy weight dropping away both literally and figuratively. “Will you stay?” he asked, green eyes darting over to look at her, make sure she was still real. “Please?”

Jody smiled, “Of course, Dean.”

\---

Dean and Jody talked about Sam and everything that had happened on IES over the last few years — until at some point, Dean fell asleep with his head resting against her shoulder. When he woke, she was gone, but there was a plate of food and a note telling him to ‘eat up’ sitting on top of the dresser. Remembering that his last meal was forever ago, he ate quickly and, surprisingly, without fear of poison. Something about Jody being there made him feel reassured about the Earth community.

Once he had finished eating, he washed up in the small bathroom, before moving to the bedroom door. His pack was still lying beside it, and he contemplated grabbing his side arm, before he remembered that there wasn’t much point. Things would either go well with the settlement, or he would be dead either way.

There wasn’t a guard outside of his door — so that was a good sign. He wandered around the floor that he was on, but mostly found more sleeping quarters. Dean couldn’t help but wonder if all of the settlement stayed there at the center complex, or if people lived off-site as well.

And… just how many people were there? 

Since he had already seen the first floor, he chose to go up the stairs instead of down. The third floor was mostly open, with a few scattered offices and windows looking out at the old city ruins. He spotted a figure standing by one of the windows and panicked, not knowing whether to move closer or quietly go back downstairs.

“The stairs squeak,” the figure said, cutting off his retreat. “You might as well step forward, because I knew you were here the moment you stepped on the bottom stair.”

Dean sighed, slowly moving forward, his hands tucked nervously into his pockets. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding. I just… wanted to see what I could.” Once he was standing about ten feet away, the light from outside dimmed enough to let him see the man before him. If Dean expected ‘old and seasoned’ that definitely wasn’t what he got. The man looked to be in his early forties, with dark hair and about three days worth of beard. Dean stepped closer, trying to remember if he’d ever seen the guy on the IES. “I’m Dean, by the way. Uh… I came in with Jesse’s group?”

“I know who you are, Dean.”

“Oh.”

The man stepped closer with a smile and held out his hand, “I’m Henry. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Dean mumbled, shaking his hand. “I don’t remember you from IES. How long have you been on Earth?”

“Eighteen years,” Henry replied, motioning for Dean to follow him into one of the offices. “When I first got here, there was a group of five of us. First few years we did all that we could to survive.” Henry sat down at a large desk and Dean followed suit, sitting in one of the chairs across from him. “When others showed up, the original five knew that we had to form a working colony, or we would lose more people than we helped.”

“I thought… I thought Earth was unlivable?”

Henry snorted. “They tell you that to make you fear it, Dean. We have fields full of crops, farms with animals, and we aren’t the only colony.”

_No way._ “You aren’t?”

Instead of answering, Henry pointed to his right. Turning to look, Dean saw an old map on the wall, that held several red pins. “Are those?” he whispered, standing up to see the map better.

“Ten colonies, each with anywhere from fifteen to a hundred residents.” 

Dean spotted a few of the red pins around areas where he knew that his troop had landed and fought. “You? That’s who we’re fighting?”

“Of course.” Henry stood, moving up next to Dean. “They can see our crops, they know how well we’re doing. So they try to stop us. That’s why Jesse’s men found you so quickly — we monitor all landings in case of hostiles.”

He turned to the older man with an angry frown, “Why don’t they just let you live? What are you hurting?”

“The system, mostly. Our continued survival goes against everything they’re striving to maintain. If a regular citizen were to find out, it would be chaos up there.” 

Dean got quiet, staring at the map in awe. There was no reason why both civilizations couldn’t survive. There was no need for violence.

“You look like your father,” Henry whispered. 

He turned his head quickly to stare at the man again. “You know John?”

“Of course.” Henry reached out, grabbing Dean’s wrist lightly and pulling it closer. Dean watched in confusion as the man shoved his jacket up, bearing his arm. Then a gentle finger was brushing over the scar on his forearm that Dean had had for as long as he could remember. “You were a monster of a toddler, Dean. Always scuffed and scarred… it was all I could do to keep you from climbing the walls.”

Dean jerked his arm away, shaking his head. _“No.”_

“You might look like him, Dean, but there’s no denying you have my eyes.”


	11. Chapter 11

To say that Dean didn’t believe Henry, would be a bit of an understatement. There was absolutely no way his father had lied to him for so long — claiming that his carrier had died while giving birth to Sam. As soon as Henry said those words ( _’you have my eyes’_ ), Dean was stepping away from the wall of maps and shaking his head. “I have to go,” he mumbled quickly, before hurrying back down the stairs. He closed himself up in the bedroom that Jody had previously escorted him to, and collapsed on the bed, head falling into his hands.

It wasn’t possible.

Nope. Not possible.

For the next several hours, Dean hid there in that room, convincing himself of how not possible it really was.

Finally, a knock sounded at the door and before he had a chance to get up, the door was opening and Jody was stepping in with another tray of food. She closed the door with her hip, and moved over to place the tray on the dresser next to him, before sitting down on the empty space of the bed. “So… you met Henry.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Dean mumbled, eyes flickering to the food — his stomach churned at even the thought of eating, so he decided it’d have to wait until later.

“Henry is actually my cousin, you know? It's so odd to know of extended family on IES, but our mother's were sisters and on occasion would meet up for lunch and a chat.” Jody relaxed back, leaning against the wall that the bed was shoved up against. “That’s how they keep their society going, by the way. They limit personal relationships and keep the focus on your mate.”

Sitting at the head of the bed, Dean fought a play of emotions in his mind. Jody’s presence made him feel calm — it always had when he was little, and it still did at that moment, years later — but he was also both frustrated and lost after recent events. Being deserted on Earth was one thing; finding out his long-dead carrier parent was actually alive and leading a group of people, was a completely different scenario. 

Jody seemed not to mind his silence, and continued speaking, “When Henry was mated with your father, John was being taught the engineering of the base. They try to keep all important personnel unmated, but on occasion allow it to happen based on genetics. John and Henry were genetically a perfect match, so despite John’s destiny of importance, they allowed the mating.” Jody stopped for a moment, and Dean looked over to see laughter in her eyes. How could any of this be funny? She didn’t give him a chance to ask, “God, you were a chubby baby. Henry gained so much weight during the pregnancy, and once you were born?” She reached over and lightly tapped his cheeks. “You looked like a squirrel with the chubbiest of cheeks.”

Dean frowned. “What’s a squirrel?”

Standing, Jody brushed her hands down her pants. “A tiny little native animal that likes nuts and hoards them in his cheeks while running back to his home.” She motioned towards the door. “There are a bunch of different things here on Earth that you’d enjoy. Just wait until Bucky finds you.”

He mouthed the word ‘Bucky’ with his eyebrows creased.

Jody laughed. “You’ll know him when you see him.”

\---

Over the next week, he slowly got accustomed to the way life functioned on Earth. There were a ton of different faces, and his training made it hard for him to make an effort to meet everyone. It also didn’t help that despite the segmented groups of people around the world, there were still a ton of faces coming and going every day. Jody had explained that since the farms were scattered in various locations, most of which were hidden from the eyes of IES, they constantly had people hauling materials from point A to point B.

Dean was sitting at the edge of camp in a clearing, eyes on the sky where he could just barely make out a gleam that signalled IES’ location, when he heard his name being called. Turning his head, he saw a small blonde girl walking his way. She looked to be younger than Sam, but maybe not by much?

“Dean, right?” She asked when she got closer. Without waiting for his answer, she sat down on the grass next to him. “Jody said I might find you out here.”

“Yeah? And you are?”

“Claire.” She held her hand out to him. As he shook her hand, she dropped her first bombshell, “I’m your sister.”

Dean pulled away like he had been burned. “Excuse me?”

“I made Pops and Aunt Jody promise not to say anything.” With a shrug, she laid down in the grass and stared up to the sky. “Figured you had enough on your mind there at first, and I just got back from the wheat farm, so I’ve been off-site.”

He shook his head and continued to stare at her like she was insane. “Listen, I don’t know who you are, but I don’t have a sister…”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Claire sat up and turned so that they were facing each other. In the back of Dean’s mind, a voice noted that her eyes were the same color as Sam’s. “You may find this hard to believe,” Claire answered, “but Pops was pregnant when they kicked him off of IES. Barely… like, didn’t even know it until he started getting sick a few weeks later. I’ll be seventeen in a few months.”

“But…” Dean continued to shake his head. “The implantation in a carrier is only viable for two pregnancies.”

“Hate to burst your bubble here, but I think we both know IES spouts a lotta shit, yeah?”

_Sister._ “You’re really…?”

“I am.”

Huh. He took another quick glance up at the sky, before letting his eyes land on the grassy area where he sat. He wasn’t quite sure how to process the information that he was receiving. It seemed almost impossible for Claire to be his sister, but at the same time… what could be gained by her lying? “Does my dad know?” The question was asked without much thought, but when he realized what he had said, he started to wonder if John had known; if John had kicked his mate off of the IES knowing full well that he was pregnant for the third time.

Claire laid back down in the grass. “Opinions differ on that. Sometimes Pops curses him for letting them kick him off while pregnant, and swears that John had to know. Other times… he gets a wistful, almost loving, look in his eyes and says that if John had known, he would have demanded that he be sent away with Pops.” She turned her head, eyes finding Dean’s again, “Jody says it was all John’s idea, but she apparently never liked him much.”

They were both quiet for a long time, long minutes of easy silence stretching out between them. Finally, Claire rolled to face him, head propped up on one hand. “What happened? Why are you here?”

Dean snorted. “Hasn’t that gotten around camp yet?”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed. “Sorry, I was trying to learn about my brother by having a conversation with him… shoulda known to just go right to Miss Jenkins, instead.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Old lady. Purple hair. Town gossip.”

Falling back into the grass next to his _sister_ , Dean chuckled. “I met her. So weird seeing an old person — they keep them pretty well secluded on the station. She asked me if I liked older women…”

“Horny old hag.”

Dean rolled his head to face Claire. “Do you know how it works up there? The designations and stuff?” She nodded, so he continued, “I was military… deemed _unfit_ to have a mate. But since I had seen some shit here on Earth—” he took a breath, suddenly wondering about the people he had killed back when he was a slave to IES control. “Fuck.”

Claire seemed to sense his struggle, and reached out to lay a hand on his arm. “We have a military force as well, Dean. Everyone volunteers with the knowledge that they might lose their lives protecting the greater good.”

“Yeah,” he quickly swallowed back the sudden onset of emotions. “Anyways, they let Sammy share my pod, so when he turned eighteen and got mated, his mate came to live with us too. _Castiel._ Sam had been expecting a female and was a bit upset when a male showed up, and things were rough between them for a while. Sam would go out partying, and Castiel and I would stay home talking.”

“You fell in love with him,” Claire offered.

“There’s no such thing as love, on IES.”

\---

Remarkably, of all the family members that he had met since arriving on Earth, Claire was the easiest for Dean to get along with. Okay, so probably not that remarkable considering he had spent his whole life bugging a younger sibling… Claire was the perfect stand-in for Sam.

He found himself following her around, learning the traits that she knew so that he could help her with her daily tasks. Pretty soon, he had been on Earth for a month and Henry had assigned him to work side-by-side with Claire. He had even gone to a couple of the other farming sites, amazed by the amount of plantation that the colony on Earth had managed to keep hidden and safe from IES. 

The food on Earth was obviously well appreciated by Dean, when he woke up one day, six weeks after his arrival, and realized he couldn’t button the pants he’d been wearing for weeks. 

Although he had allowed Claire to do his laundry the last time, and more than a couple of his shirts ended up shrinking and stretching tighter over his skin. 

Shaking his head, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants that someone had given him, thankful for the extra room to breath, and went to find his sister for breakfast. When he sat down beside her at a table in the garden, he accepted a plate of eggs and nudged her shoulder with his. “You shrank my pants, hiccup.”

Claire rolled her eyes and gave him a withering ‘teenager’ look. “No, you’ve had double dessert for two weeks and you’re getting fat.”

“I am not!”

Reaching out, she grabbed the elastic band of his pants, pulled it out, and let it snap back against his skin. “Those used to be Booker’s pants. Jody put them in your room last week.”

Dean frowned, glancing across the open space of the garden, to where Booker stood. The man was not ashamed of his pot belly, and loved to pet it after a meal and compliment the chef. 

He had to weigh at least fifty pounds more than Dean did…

Which wasn’t a very good sign.

“We should go for a run later,” he mused.

Claire laid her head on his shoulder and laughed. “Don’t worry, Dean, if Cassie boy looks down from IES, you’ll still look pretty.”

“And can you tell Jody to stop making that apple pudding?”


	12. Chapter 12

Sam found that working was getting harder and harder. His concentration was shot, and more often than not, he would spend his time looking off into space and completely forgetting about his tasks. It had been _four months_ since his brother got kicked off of IES, and though Sam and Castiel had gotten closer over those three months, it still felt like everything was a little more forced than it needed to be.

Thankfully, he had finally convinced his father to let him and Cas move back to a regular pod, so they weren’t under constant observation. As he explained to John — the pregnancy was in progress, Dean was gone, what was the problem with letting them get their lives back on track? John had agreed, but only on the very strict rule that if Sam was found attending any raves or consorting with non-mated occupants, he too would be banished, along with Cas.

It didn’t matter. After the stress that Sam and Cas had gone through while being forcefully mated, there was no way Sam could ever again risk Castiel’s life for his own pleasure.

”Sam!”

He turned, looking up from the tablet he had been working on, to see one of the nurses rushing towards him and calling his name. “Wendy? What is it?”

She came to a stop in front of him and motioned behind her, “Your mate,” she managed, “he just got brought in. You need to hurry.”

Sam was up and moving in the direction she had indicated before Wendy could even finish her sentence. His feet slid along the well polished floor as he rounded a corner into the emergency admittance wing. He saw two of the main doctors and a crowd of nurses surrounding a bed, and heard Castiel’s scream long before he saw his mate laying on the bed in between the staff members. He shoved his way between a few of the nurses, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Castiel was grabbing onto his barely distended stomach and crying out in pain, and Sam blanched at the sight of blood covering Cas from the waist down. _Baby._ Something was wrong with the baby.

A nurse grabbed onto Sam, trying to pull him out of the room, and Sam faintly heard words resembling _’get Sam out of here,’_ and _’we need to get into surgery.’_

He was held back as they rolled Castiel towards the surgical ward, and as soon the doors swung shut behind the gurney, Sam felt his legs give out on him. He hadn’t seen it often in his time in rotation, but they had done extensive training to learn the signs of a miscarriage and fetus in distress. Castiel was just shy of five and a half months pregnant, which meant a miscarriage would be putting his life into greater danger, as well.

How would the powers that be react if they lost the baby? Their existence on IES had been so strained recently, that he seriously didn’t know if ARKCO would accept this without just kicking them off as well.

* * *

For the next four hours, Sam sat in his tiny office and waited patiently for one of the nurses to come and tell him that Cas was out of surgery. He had paced outside of the surgical ward for nearly an hour before finally Wendy had stopped him and demanded that he take some time and she would call him once they had word.

There was a soft knock on the door and he stood as Wendy poked her head inside and motioned for him to follow. He wiped off his sweaty hands and swallowed down his anxiety as he followed her down the hall towards the patient rooms. Castiel was in room number fourteen-fifty. Wendy left him at the door, and Sam took a deep breath before finally stepping inside. His mate was asleep, looking like a shrunken shell of his former self. Standing next to his bed, the main surgeon Dr. Grant held a COMM tablet.

Dr. Grant looked and motioned Sam closer. Sam got to the other side of Castiel’s bed and quickly wrapped his mate’s hand in his own. Dr. Grant sighed before quietly saying, “I’m sorry to tell you this, Sam, but we were unable to save the baby.”

He swallowed hard and slowly nodded his head. “How is Cas?”

”That’s the... that’s the other issue.” Dr. Grant held out the tablet so that Sam could take it and see the scans on the small screen. “Castiel’s body has completely rejected the implantation at this stage. When we did the surgery, we had to remove not only the fetus, but also the implanted uterus. At this point, we can reevaluate him for a future replantation surgery, but I’ve never seen one have a successful outcome. Every prior attempt resulted in a death of the carrier.”

Sam felt his stomach lurch at the very idea. He passed the tablet back to Dr. Grant and watched the man leave the room, before falling down into a chair next to Castiel’s bed.

_No babies._ A carrier that couldn’t provide children would be marked as ‘useless’ in the eyes of ARKCO. Castiel would be sent to Earth without a second of hesitation.

There was absolutely no way he would send Castiel off to that fate on his own, just because the carrier plantation had failed. The way he saw it, that was more ARKCO’s problem than Castiel’s. They had enough scientific equipment around that they should have been able to figure out that Cas’ body wasn’t going to accept the implant; they could have marked him initially as something other than a carrier and prevented the entire mess.

”Sam,” a voice called softly from the open doorway. He turned, frowning at the sight of his father standing in the doorway. Sam gave Cas a quick glance to make sure he was still asleep, before walking to where his father stood and pulling the door shut once they were both in the hallway. John barely seemed sympathetic as he said, “I heard about the baby.”

Sam nodded, “They had to remove everything — his body rejected both the baby and the implant.”

”Shame.” John turned his head to look into the small window in Castiel’s door. “I’ve had them go ahead and schedule the surgery to do the implant again. We’ll have to let him recover from this, but the doctor has assured me three weeks is a proper recovery time before the new surgery.”

Sam shook his head, feeling anger for his father and the entire ARKCO corporation. He hated it; was tired of his entire life being ruled by a bunch of higher-ups that were only interested in the bottom line without caring about the resulting tragedy that people would be facing. He moved his body to stand between his father and the door to Castiel’s room. His arms moved up, crossing over his chest. _”No.”_

“Samuel.”

_”No, John.”_ He poked a finger at his father’s chest. “You go ahead and do what you have to do, but I’m not putting my mate’s life at risk because of this stupid corporation’s mandates. So schedule the ship to Earth if you want to, if you need to, but we’re not doing the second surgery. I can’t believe you would even attempt it — Dr. Grant said no one has ever survived it, so you’re literally sentencing Castiel to death because of your own technologies failure. So _no_... we’re done.”

John looked absolutely furious. “You would sacrifice your own life for him?”

Sam snorted, “Ironic, isn’t it? Considering how hard your people tried to get us to commit to each other. Now that I am committed to him, you want me to give him up.” When John went to speak up again, Sam held up a hand to stop him. “I’ll give you two options — either convince the powers to be to let us live our lives here without the demands of producing children, or find us a ride to Earth.”

If he wanted to say more, John apparently decided that it wasn’t worth the struggle. He nodded his head and after a moment, turned to leave the hall without speaking another word. Once he was gone and the hallway was empty, Sam turned and quietly stepped back into Castiel’s room. To his surprise, when he softly shut the door behind him, blue eyes blinked open and turned to watch him.

“Hey,” Sam spoke softly, moving over to Castiel’s bedside and leaning down to kiss his forehead. “How you feeling?”

Castiel’s hand that wasn’t attached to machines and IVs, was resting on his stomach, and the younger man blinked back a few tears. “The baby?”

Sam curled his own fingers around that hand and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Cas.”

* * *

John’s response to Sam’s words wasn’t immediate, which festered the slightest bit of hope in Sam’s stomach that maybe his father was actually trying to fight for them to stay on IES. With his focus committed to helping Castiel recover, though, he couldn’t dwell on any of it for very long. He hadn’t told Castiel about the argument that he had with John… okay, so maybe he hadn’t told Castiel about the implant removal at all. 

But what choice did he have? Castiel was absolutely distraught over the loss of a child that he had just started feeling movements from — if he could barely make it out of bed, and Sam could barely get him to eat one meal a day, how was Sam supposed to tell him that _’hey, we’re also probably gonna be shipped to our deaths on Earth.’_

Although, to be fair, Castiel would probably prefer that, based on his current moods. 

It was two weeks after Castiel lost the baby, when a knock sounded on their pod door. Sam cut a quick glance to the bedroom where his mate was sleeping, before moving over to the door and opening it. A man wearing a shirt that said he was a military lieutenant stood on the other side of the door holding a box. 

He passed the box to Sam with a curt nod. “This is your pre-Earth preparation guide. I encourage you to look over it fully and pack exactly what it tells you to. Your shuttle leaves in three days.”

With a swallow, Sam fought off the urge to drop the box like it was burning his hands. “I understand,” he replied. _You asked for this._ “We’ll be ready. Do we meet in the shuttle bay?” _This is what you wanted._

“Two soldiers will arrive here to take you to the ship. Don’t pack more than you can carry — Earth is much larger than the world you’ve known.” And that was all he said before he turned and walked away. 

Sam closed the door, carried the box over to the dining table, and took a deep breath. 

_Three days._ He had three days to prepare. If he wasn’t ready, there was absolutely no way that both he and Cas would survive on Earth.

He wondered, not for the first time, if his brother was still alive. Would they be left in the same area? 

Or a world apart?


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no fracking idea where this story is going. *shrug*

Okay, so maybe for the first few weeks, Dean could ignore the knocks. But finally, after five months on Earth, and four months of avoiding the inevitable, one day there was no knocking and instead the door opened. Dean didn’t even have to look up to know who was standing there. 

_Henry._

Could Dean really be blamed for avoiding the man? It was only coincidence that Claire had invited Dean to go with her to one of the farms that was a few miles away from the main community hub and required them to be gone for four weeks.

He wasn’t avoiding anyone.

Certainly not.

The door closed behind Henry and the man moved over to sit down on the bed next to Dean. 

They hadn’t spoken since that first day of revelation. Despite the fact that he was pretty certain he believed the man about being his carrier parent, Dean was so inclined to avoiding parental relationships, that he hadn’t given much thought to how he was avoiding Henry just like he would if John was there.

“So, we need to talk,” Henry started, sitting down on the bed next to Dean. When Dean simply glanced up at him with a look of ‘yeah, so?’ Henry continued. “How are you liking the food here on Earth?”

Dean snorted, “You came to talk to me about my diet?”

“I did.” Henry reached out to tap the expanded waist on Dean’s sweatpants. “People are beginning to talk, son, and I think we should probably have a conversation about how your next few months will be playing out.”

Okay, so maybe the knock on the door hadn’t been the only thing he had avoided recently. But it felt like one of those precious things where if he didn’t mention it, nothing bad would happen. It was only after bathing that he would look down at his naked form and think for a few quick moments that _maybe_... just maybe...

“Can we not?” he asked, voice breaking a little as he moved a pillow over his stomach. Out of sight, out of mind.

“If anyone knows how you feel, it’s me.”

_Sure._ Dean turned to look petulantly at his father. “You do, huh? Because I’m fairly certain that I wasn’t magically conceived without the assistance of a carrier implant surgery.”

“No, but Claire was. You know the truth — implant surgeries are only viable for two pregnancies, so how do you explain your sister’s existence?” Henry sighed, stretching out on the bed a bit, to get comfortable. “I paid attention to the things that John brought home from his work, I think the general consensus is that carrier’s aren’t as smart as everyone else, which worked to my advantage.” Henry looked over, meeting Dean’s gaze, “Do you know why they mark some people as being incompatible with the carrier surgery?”

“I thought it was a genetic reaction.” 

The older man shook his head. “Not quite. It has to do a bit with genetics, but not in the way you are thinking. See… you probably think that being rejected meant you weren’t compatible?” Dean nodded. “And they stick you in a _dangerous_ role, where the odds of you getting killed young are higher than normal, right?” Another nod. “What if they were doing that, because during all of their numerous genetic tests, they found that you were able to procreate _without_ their structure? If a large group of the population could have children without needing ARKCO’s implant surgery, then how would they keep control over IES? How would they keep the population from outgrowing them?”

Dean felt his blood running cold, realizing exactly how political it all was, and not only that but John… “Dad knew. Dad knew all along that he was signing me up to be killed.”

“They begin genetic testing as soon as a baby is born.”

Shaking himself, he tried to move away from the pain that that knowledge caused. It didn’t matter what he had done… his whole life his father had known he would turn out a failure. Dean looked down at the pillow, “What do I do about this?”

“Well,” Henry smiled, “As much as I hate to watch you go, one of our other camps is the best equipped to handle births and any other complications that might arise — we send everyone there when we have a pregnancy, and they come back after the birth. Judging by your size and the amount of time you’ve been here with us, I’m guessing you’re already in your six month. This will be the last change for you to travel over to the other camp and get settled.”

_Fuck._ He was just starting to get settled… he didn’t want to _leave._ “I have to go alone?”

“Of course not. Claire will go with you, I’ve discussed this with her and she would like to spend the entire time with you. Jody will come during your last month, so she can be there for the birth.”

Staring at the pillow for another long moment, Dean took a deep breath before looking up at the man that had given birth to him, “What about you? I mean… this is your first grandchild. Don’t you wanna be there when it’s born?”

Henry looked up at Dean in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d want me there.”

“Well, I do. You’re the one who is going to know what I’m going through. And even after a few months, and only a couple of interactions, you’re a better father than _John_ ever was.”

* * *

It took a week, in a small carriage guided by two formerly wild horses, to get to the new camp. It maybe would have gone faster if Dean didn’t have to pee every few miles thanks to the little spawn pushing on his bladder.

Along with Claire, Jesse and Cesar also accompanied them, as both protection and _magical horse whisperers._ Dean felt a bit useless sitting in the carriage and groaning ridiculously every time a particularly rough bump jolted his sore back. Claire did her best to keep him entertained, but after a week, it was obvious that everyone was getting tired of each other.

They were just a few miles from the camp, and even though the sky was getting dark, they had decided to keep moving, rather than stop for one more night. Dean looked up at the darkening sky and spotted the twinkle that was obviously IES. “You know what’s fucked?” he asked his sister.

“The size of your feet?” Claire teased.

Dean turned to glare at her. That morning, when they woke, he had complained that his feet were too swollen to get into his shoes. “ _No._ ” Pesky little sisters. “I was going to say, that it’s a little fucked up that at this exact moment, the father of my child is probably pregnant with my brother’s kid.”

Claire let out a startled laugh, as she glanced first, up at the sky, and then to Dean. “You’re right, that is pretty fucked up.”

“You’re so much help and I’m so glad you’re here,” Dean mumbled.

“Fine, fine.” She laid her head down onto his shoulder. “What would Cas _tiel_ say if he knew that you were carrying his child?”

Now it was Dean’s turn to laugh. “He wouldn’t believe me. All of the bullshit they make you go through up there, to get the implant surgery, there is no way he’d believe he had gone through that, when there were people that could get pregnant without it.”

“From what dad has said, that place is pretty fucked up in their control.”

“It’s been so long,” Dean whispered. “They were forced together. Forced to forget about me and focus on making a baby. There’s absolutely no way that Cas would ever look at me again and want me or this kid.” Closing his eyes, he laid his head on top of Claire’s, “Not to mention the fact that he’s up there and I’m down here. I mean, if he was going to get himself thrown off so that he could be with me, I’m guessing it would have happened by now.”

“Well, the good news is, that you have me. And there are plenty of hot dudes living in the camps and colonies. Once we get this kid born, you and I and the runt will travel around and find you a hot piece of ass to lay claim to.”

“It’s really disturbing to hear my baby sister say that, but at the same time, I can’t really find any fault in your logic…”

* * *

“Sam,” Cas whispered.

“Yeah. Over here.”

Cas felt across the darkened room until he was pushed up against his mate’s side and felt a little more at ease. He didn’t remember much of the last twenty-four hours. All he really knew was that a gang of rebels had caught them as soon as their transport flew away. The people on Earth obviously had a way of intercepting when the transports would arrive. 

The rebels, looking both skeptical and fearful of their presence, had demanded they wait in a holding cell for a day, before they’d be set free. 

Castiel felt more fearful over the whole mess, than he had during all of his pain while losing the baby. 

He snuggled into Sam’s protective embrace and tried not to think about all that he had lost over the past few weeks. And now they were _prisoners._ They would probably be murdered, or worse, left to die at by rabid beast.

There were footsteps outside, followed by the loud metal groaning as the door was opened. Daylight flooded the small space, and a man stepped into the room.

“My apologies for this awful treatment. Over the past few months, IES has been dropping off folks, knowing that we would rescue them, only to have the people turn out to be suicide bombers. We’ve had to start taking precautions with any new refugees that we bring in.”

Sam stood, helping Cas to his feet, before giving the man a glare. “That’s sick. You’re lying. They wouldn’t actually—”

“They would, and they have. We’ve lost ten lives because of their bombs, and I don’t intend to lose anymore.”

Cas could understand Sam’s unwillingness to believe; it sounded like such a wild threat, but he could see in the older man’s eyes that he was obviously telling the truth. There was grief there; pain for lives lost.

“Anyways,” the man spoke, “come along. I’m sure you’re both very hungry. I’ve had our cooks prepare you a meal and ready a room for you.”

When they stepped out of the metal room, both Sam and Castiel were shocked at the sight of so many people wandering around the camp. No wonder they were worried about potential bombings, Cas mused to himself. They were doing well to repopulate, but obviously couldn’t handle the setback of more lives lost.

“I want you two to understand that you aren’t prisoners here… you can come and go as you please. We ask that you do help with chores, to offset the amount of food you will be eating, but we obviously have no issue sharing here.”

The man stepped up to them and held out his hand, “Welcome to Earth. My name is Henry.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had literally given up on this story, with the idea that maybe I would put it permanently on hold, when I started rereading it, trying to get inspiration, and a friend gave me one simple idea that seemed to put the ball rolling forward.
> 
> SO here we are... a couple chapters from an actual ending. AHHHHHH *claps*

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve found that the transition is a bit easier if one of our most recent additions from IES is your tour guide.” Henry smiled, leading them towards a large tent. “That, and I have a few meetings with the leaders of one of our other settlements to get to.” The tent flap opened, and Henry motioned to the woman stepping out into the sunlight. “Guys, this is Gabriella and she’ll—”

“Sam?”

“Gabby!”

Castiel frowned from his spot next to Sam… or well, where Sam used to be. Now his mate was crossing the distance to the tent and swooping Gabriella up off her feet in a tight hug. _Huh._ He didn’t understand… until he suddenly remembered one of the first fights he’d had with Sam when they were isolated together. 

_’This is your fucking fault! You and those damn raves!’_

_‘Fuck. They had Gabby! The one time I make my fucking move on the girl I want and they caught us. They’re going to send her to Earth, I fucking know it—’_

Apparently they had sent the infamous _Gabby_ to Earth and judging by the way her hair seemed to be glowing in the sunlight and her skin was a perfect golden brown… Earth was doing her wonders. 

As the two apparent lovebirds continued discussing everything that had transpired, Castiel found his eyes drifting around the settlement, observing the way that people were handling things. He watched a young couple working to chop wood while laughing to themselves… and felt his eyes moving up to look at the sky.

There was a part of him, yes, that was glad to be away from the IES, but he knew who he was there. He knew his purpose. And at least with Sam by his side on Earth, things had seemed a little less daunting—

But, that apparently was not destined to last long.

* * *

Over the next eight weeks, Sam spent more and more of his time with Gabby, and less and less of it with Castiel. They had initially been put up in a small tent together, but it only took two weeks before Sam moved his stuff in with his new sweetheart. And he would still come around to visit, yes, but the conversations were always stilted.

Castiel understood. Sam, like all the other young people on IES, had been forced into an arrangement that he didn’t _want._ If Castiel had already fallen for someone back on the ship, only to find them there… _oh wait._

He rolled his eyes to himself and focused back on what he was doing. Since Sam spent most of his time working with Gabby in the med-tent, Castiel had sought out his own hobbies. After multiple attempts at things, he found that he did best in the large garden area at the center of their settlement. There was an older woman, Missouri, working there that didn’t seem bothered by his desires to learn the various plants — she had even given him a journal of blank paper so he could begin writing down what he knew.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. And though Sam might be the doctor, Castiel was learning the ins-and-outs of how to use herbs to help with pain, making balms and teas like Missouri showed him. It got to the point, where he had a bit of a collection going, and people would stop by with various ailments (things that weren’t serious enough to need Sam or Gabby’s help) and ask for his assistance.

One evening his tent opened and he looked up from his journal to smile at Jody, one of the settlement leaders, as she stepped inside. “Castiel, do you have a moment?”

“Of course,” he motioned her to a chair. “Are you feeling ill? I have some hot water and could make you a tea—”

“I’m fine, thanks,” she mused with a soft smile. She looked around the tent, before finally settling down in the chair he’d offered. “Missouri tells me that you’ve done well with taking over her apothecary interests.”

“What?” He frowned. “I wasn’t meaning to take anything over. I was just learning the different techniques and she kept having me take stuff back here and store it.”

“It’s fine, Cas,” Jody smiled. “As you may have noticed, Missouri isn’t our youngest resident. She’s been looking for someone to be her apprentice for a long time. She didn’t want to leave us without sharing her knowledge.”

“ _Oh._ But surely one of the doctors would have been better suited…”

“As she likes to say: doctors are far too rushed to appreciate the things that take time. And plants take time.”

“True. Even when Sam comes to get something to help a patient with pain, he’s in and out in a rush.” Castiel sighed, making himself a cup of tea — a concoction that would help his nerves — and sitting back down across from Jody. 

Jody was like the ‘mom’ of the camp, she knew all and saw all, and it apparently hadn’t slipped past her that Castiel was having _feelings_ about his former mate. “Castiel, I wanted to stop by tonight to see if you’d like to get away from camp for a while.” Before he could speak, she held up her hand, “We’ve got a secondary settlement a few days from here that houses one of our more experienced doctors, so we send folks there that are about to give birth. My nephew is there right now, and he’s due very soon, so I’ll be leaving to visit. Henry is joining me. But we’ve received word that they are short on some of their herbs and could use some assistance with getting new plants started…”

“But Missouri—”

“Does not like to travel.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if you just took the stuff?”

“Probably.” Jody shrugged, “But that wouldn’t get you away from Sam and Gabby for a while, would it?”

* * *

“ _Dean._ ”

“Shut up, Claire.”

There was an annoying poking at the side of his arm. He grumbled, trying to roll over to face away from the feeling, only to be disrupted by his own ginormous size. Back sleep or no sleep.

“Dean.”

“Please don’t make me.”

“Don’t make you wake up and act like a normal human being?”

“Can’t I just sleep for another month?” He laid there another moment, before the baby inside of him began to wiggle and _fuck_ now he had to pee. “Help me up,” he groaned, “I’m gonna piss myself.”

Claire helped him to slowly get up out of the bed, before walking with him across the small path to the outhouse. She waited outside the door, talking nonsense about things they could do that day while he relieved himself. Once he was done, he stepped back out and glared at her. “We could always just go back inside and hide out for another day. Because it’s a hundred fucking degrees out here and I feel like a bloated pig.”

“How about we go swimming?” His little sister smiled, ever the fucking optimist. “I’m sure the cool water will help?”

“You’re massaging my feet when we get back,” Dean growled — wobbling, yes, _wobbling_ — back towards the tent so he could change into proper swimming attire… which mostly meant a clean pair of shorts. The first few weeks he had been ashamed of the way his body was changing and would never step foot outside of the tent unless he was fully dressed. But, the place was filled with folks of various stages of pregnancy and at that point he really didn’t give a fuck. If people wanted to ooh-and-ahhh over his stretch marks, more power to them.

Once they were ready and slowly walking towards the lake, Claire with her arm tucked in his in case he needed help walking and wouldn’t admit it, Claire looked up at him and smiled. “Jody and Henry will be here this evening. Word came earlier from one of the messenger riders.”

That thought was equal parts worrisome and awesome. Awesome because well… he missed them already. And worrisome because it meant he was actually in the final weeks of his pregnancy — a fact that the doctors kept telling him, even if he didn’t want to believe it. “Really?”

“Yup. They’re bringing the new herbalist. Some dude from IES that’s only been around a few weeks.”

Dean stopped paying attention for a moment as he paused on the path and held a hand to his side, letting out a sharp groan. For the past five days he had been dealing with what the doctor’s called ‘start-up’ contractions — the beginnings of his body getting ready for labor. They didn’t last long, but were so random that he could never predict when they would happen. “Fuck, kid. You need to get out.” Once the muscles in his back started to relax, he poked at his stomach. “‘Bout time for you to vacate this space, yo.”

“You know, Miriam’s first born was five weeks late…”

Dean turned a glare on his little sister as he began to walk again. “You shut your mouth, young lady.”

She laughed at his expense, but remained quiet for the rest of the walk.

Once they reached the final grove of trees and stepped through to the beach, Dean spotted another person swimming, before turning just in time to see the blush rising on Claire’s cheeks. “Did you drag my fat butt all the way out here so you could oogle your boyfriend?”

“I’m not _oogling_ and he isn’t my boyfriend!” Claire hissed.

Dean rolled his eyes, dropping his towel on a rock and kicking off his shoes, before walking to the water’s edge. 

The lone swimmer spotted them and moved closer. “Hello Dean…. Hi Claire.”

Dean forced himself not to turn back and embarrass his sister, as he stepped into the cool water. “Jack. Day off?” The young man was one of the apprentices working with the doctor’s there at the camp. _Earth born,_ just like Claire.

“Yes! We aren’t expecting any deliveries until your little one arrives.” Jack moved closer, offering a hand to help Dean get far enough out into the lake so that his body was mostly submerged and he wouldn’t risk slipping on a rock. “Are things going well?”

“Aside from the fact that the baby is still inside me? Yes.” Dean motioned back to his sister, who was stepping into the water in a large shirt and shorts. “Claire convinced me that I needed fresh air. I think she really just didn’t want to keep smelling me.”

“He sweats when he sleeps,” Claire replied, smiling at Jack. “It’s disgusting.”

“He’s lucky to have you near,” Jack answered. “Some of the patients… I worry when they’re alone.”

The words cut off into some intense staring and Dean rolled his eyes before slowly beginning to swim away from the two so they could talk on their own. He had to admit, one of the biggest perks about life on Earth, was the large bodies of water that allowed for swimming and easy collection for drinking. And _fish._ Fish was definitely one of his favorite meals on Earth. 

Thankfully, in the water, his muscles relaxed and the buoyancy around him helped support the weight of his stomach, allowing him to feel some semblance of normal. It was _awesome._ It reminded him once more that in only a few short weeks he would begin to have his body back.

As he began slowly floating on his back, he ran one of his hands along the swell of his bump. In the dead of night, when Claire was most definitely asleep across the tent, Dean liked to talk softly to the little one and imagine what his and Castiel’s child would look like. He’d had the chance to see some of the other newborns around the camp and…

…he wasn’t sure he was ready.


	15. Chapter 15

Looking something like a beached whale (an image that he had in his head thanks to a very wonderful younger sister who had in fact been to the beach and _seen_ a beached whale), Dean sat outside trying to soak up the sunshine while he waited for Jody and Henry’s long anticipated arrival. Since he had spent much of the past two nights worrying about how they would react to his general _size_ , he had finally tried escaping his own mind by going outside. One of the members of that particular camp was a wood carpenter, and had made a very amazing rocker/lounge chair that wasn’t fully reclined, but also didn’t have a straight back — everyone in the camp had told Dean about how much the pregnant members appreciated that chair, but Dean didn’t believe them until he finally spent a sleepless night sitting in the thing. Wrapped up in large blankets, he was actually able to sleep some thanks to the way the chair eased his back pain. 

Every night, when it was still cold and the sky hadn’t started to lighten even a tiny bit, he would get up, make sure his sister was still sleeping soundly, empty his always full bladder, and then make his way over to the rocker. His doctors and friends at the camp had all said that he was welcome to move the chair into his tent, but he rather liked sitting in the middle of camp and feeling the warmth of the main fire’s last embers.

He was sitting in that exact spot, dozing off and on as the wind rocked the chair for him, when a bit of a scurry at the edge of camp drew his attention. He remained in his chair, watching across the distance to where one of the guards had apparently spotted nearby travelers and was alerting another guard. The sky was just starting to lighten, which meant whomever it was had traveled through the night, apparently.

 _Idiots,_ Dean thought to himself, relaxing back in the chair and closing his eyes once more. Little Bear, as he had taken to calling the one growing within him, had only settled down just a few short blinks before, and he wanted to rest before another kick jabbed at his bladder — so he completely tuned out the happenings at the main entrance to the camp, not caring who was there or what was being said as they were greeted. Wasn’t his business. The only arrival on his mind was Little Bear’s… and that was still a few weeks away.

“I see you’ve found the chair.”

With a frown, Dean blinked up at the words spoken a few feet away. He saw Henry standing there, looking a bit tired and worn as he carried a canister of water and sat down on the smaller (much less comfortable) chair to Dean’s right. “Henry.” Dean blinked again, shaking away sleep as he glanced beyond his father. “Where is Jody?”

“Ah yes, that’s why I’m here in the middle of the night. She slipped on some rocks a few hours out and hurt her ankle. I hurried ahead so that I could alert the guards and sent a group out to get her.” He motioned to the entrance of the camp, where a group of six or so men was starting to gather, one of which was Jack, the doctor’s apprentice. 

“You left her alone?” Dean shifted, back starting to ache.

“Nope. Had two young men get dropped off from an IES transport a couple months back. One of them came with us. He’s been learning the herbs and stuff from Missouri.”

“You trust Jody with this newbie?”

Henry shrugged, moving his chair a little closer to the fire. “Castiel is a good kid, I don’t think he could hurt a fly.”

Dean felt his heart stop, unable to contemplate anything his father had said after the name _’Castiel’_. He remembered a day, right after he’d met the other man on IES, when he’d been bored during his work rotation and had typed Castiel’s name into an ARKCO computer — wanting to know more about his family out of a weird curiosity. Castiel, not surprisingly, was the only person on the entire base with that particular first name. 

It had made finding his profile incredibly easy. And at that moment? It made Dean feel a mixture of unease, nausea, and heartache. He wanted to be happy and excited, yes, but there were so many questions floating around in his brain that were preventing those emotions.

_Why had he gotten thrown off of IES?_

_Where was Sam?_

_Was Castiel pregnant?_

_Had John found out about Dean and Cas and punished Castiel because of it?_

The last one, surprisingly, was what worried him the most. He didn’t want to be responsible for the other man being kicked off of the ship — even if he knew in his heart that life on Earth was much better than anything on IES.

“Dean?”

He looked up at Henry and realized there was concern etched in every line of the other man’s face. It was right about then that Dean started to realize his breathing was off — labored and raggedy — and his hands were shaking. _Panic attack,_ a voice whispered. He’d had a few before, after his first glimpses of real combat.

His heart started racing faster and Dean wrapped his arms protectively around his stomach, worried for Little Bear’s health.

Henry was now standing, one hand on Dean’s shoulder as he tried to get Dean to focus his attention and slow his breathing. The last thing Dean really registered hearing, was his father’s panicked voice as he called for the doctor.

* * *

Castiel was a wreck. He’d spent the previous evening barely able to sleep as he alternated checking on Jody and watching for wildlife — Jody had assured him that she was capable of guarding their spot while injured, but every small noise from her had woke him during his downtimes. Eventually when the sun started to rise, he gave up on the task altogether and helped prepare Jody for when the others arrived to move her. They got their not long after he’d finished, and Castiel stepped back to watch as expert hands moved Jody onto a stretcher that the men could alternate carrying.

He had followed a step behind as they continued the last few hours of the journey to the new camp, anticipating the task of meeting new people and establishing himself in another new place. For a kid that had grown up in the same seven hundred square feet for eighteen years, with the same routine happening every day, he was finding that changes to what he knew of routine were a bit hard to swallow.

All of that panic (well, minus the Jody messing up her ankle debacle), had been somewhat expected as he made the trip.

What he hadn’t expected was to walk into the new camp, still following the men, and see a maddening rush of people going to-and-fro as they went in and out of one of the larger tents in the camp. And the _screaming._ Why was someone screaming so loudly? At first he thought multiple people were screaming throughout the camp, possibly the runners??, until they got closer and he realized it was only one haggard voice. Apparently the tent it was coming from, was the med tent, because that was the direction the men carried Jody towards. 

Henry met them at the entrance, looking more than a little frazzled. “Men, carry Jody into the birthing room. We’ve set up a chair for her there, and I’m afraid casting that ankle will have to wait, if she wants to see the birth. Little one has decided to come early.”

The men quickly agreed and Jody was already starting to sit up as they carried her inside. Castiel frowned as another scream let out from inside the tent. Henry glanced over his shoulder for a moment, before looking back at Castiel. “You were talking to me about the herbs you and Missouri put together for childbirth?”

“Yeah.” He dropped his bag and began rooting around through the things he’d brought. “We made it into a salve to help numb some of the pain when traditional means couldn’t help.”

“Come on then, boy, Dean is having a heck of a time with this birth. I hope you aren’t squeamish.” 

As soon as he had the salve bottle in hand, Henry was grabbing his arm and pulling him into the tent, back towards the back half where a curtain closed off a large section. Castiel had half a mind to think _’Dean?’_ , before Henry was passing through the second curtain and demanding Castiel follow him. He caught a deep breath, before passing through the curtain. Despite the voice in his head telling him it obviously wasn’t _his_ Dean (his Dean couldn’t be giving birth!), he still wondered…

And then a loud voice yelled, “Touch me one more time, mother fucker, and I will make you _eat_ that fucking hand!” and Castiel stepped up behind Henry just in time to see Dean sitting up in bed and shoving a man in a white coat away. 

“Sir, I have to—”

“No! No. _No._ You have to _leave._ Right now.” Dean’s face scrunched up in pain for a moment, but when the moment passed, he pointed at the man, as long as a few other men there in the room — including the ones that had carried Jody in. “You. You. You. You. All of you. Who the fuck are you? Get out! I want _five_ people here. Claire. Jody. Henry. Jack. And him—” Dean suddenly looked up and pointed a finger at Castiel, whose jaw was hanging open as he stared in shock at Dean and his _very_ rounded belly. “Anyone else,” Dean continued, “can get the _fuck out._ I am not bringing this kid into the world to be greeted by a bunch of strangers.”

The men all looked to Henry for instruction, but Henry simply stepped out of the way and held the curtain open for them.

Castiel, still a bit captivated by the sight of Dean _pregnant_ , took only another second to clear his mind, before seeing that flash of pain on Dean’s face again and snapping out of it. He moved forward, excusing himself around the young man wearing gloves and looking like a younger version of the doctor whom had just been sent away. Salve jar opened, Castiel reached Dean’s bedside and looked up to catch the older man’s gaze. 

“Hello, Dean,” he whispered. “This might be a bit cold at first.” Dean nodded and Castiel quickly began wiping the salve around the underside of Dean’s belly, his inner and outer thighs, and down his legs a bit. Once he was done, he stepped back, replaced the lid, and grabbed a towel from a nearby table, making sure to wipe the gunk completely off of his hands.

Hands _mostly_ clean, Castiel moved to the head of the bed on Dean’s right. On his left, stood a girl about Castiel’s age, maybe a couple years younger, with blonde hair who was carefully guiding Dean through some breathing exercises. Cas waited for them to finish, before laying his hand on Dean’s and intertwining their fingers together. Dean looked up at him, had barely looked away since Castiel walked into the room.

“I was worried you wouldn’t make it,” Dean whispered.

Castiel smiled, leaning down to lay his forehead against Dean’s. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling of something he had never expected to have again… then opened them once more and kissed Dean gently. It was chaste, only a brief moment, and then he was pulling back and quirked an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize I had an appointment to get to, or I would have hurried.”

Dean went through another moment of pain and breathing hard through a contraction, before he squeezed Castiel’s hand and smiled up at him. “I have someone very important that would like to meet their daddy. Help me bring Little Bear into the world?”

“I would love absolutely nothing more, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!


	16. Chapter 16

Little Bear turned out to be a bright blue eyed baby girl. She cried her heart out when she first entered the world, only to soon be calmed by the soothing voice of her papa. She recognized that voice, whispering softly, “Hello, Little Bear. Welcome to the world.”

From the spot next to Dean's bed, Castiel stared in shock at the little squished and red face that, remarkably, reminded him of his own reflection. Especially with the tuft of dark hair on top of her head. 

“Oh, Dean,” Henry spoke up from the other side of the bed, his fingers reaching out to gently touch Little Bear’s hair. “All this hair, you must have had some killer indigestion happening every day.”

Dean hadn’t stopped smiling since the baby was placed in his arms. “Worth it.”

* * *

Dean, in all his infinite amounts of free time over the past nine months, had apparently failed to settle on a name worthy enough for the little one. A feat made even harder by the fact that things like _gender_ were unknown until the very last second of the process. So, for the next three weeks, the entire camp simply referred to their newest member as ‘Little Bear.’ 

“We’re going to have to decide eventually,” Castiel mused, setting on a large carpet the covered the tent floor, legs spread with Little Bear kicking her feet from the spot where she laid in front of him on a soft sheepskin blanket. 

Dean was across the room, sorting through a basket of food for something that looked edible. “Stop rushing, it’ll happen.” He moved over, an apple in hand as he sat beside Castiel.

Their first two weeks back in each other’s company had been a lot more sleep than reunion. Their daughter preferred to be up with the moon and sleep with the sun, so their schedules were a mess. They had moments of quiet, where they would start to discuss the events that had transpired since they last saw each other — but usually they fell asleep within the first ten minutes of talking.

Once Little Bear got a bit more used to the world, and started sleeping properly, they were able to walk around looking less like the living dead and more like actual humans, and had thus had some very important conversations. There had been more than a few tears as Castiel nestled into Dean’s arms and spoke of the pain (emotionally and physically) he’d gone through with his pregnancy. He’d then described the way that things had turned from bad to worse, with Sam sticking up for him and ultimately dooming them both to a life on Earth. (“Not that bad, in hindsight,” Castiel mused, fingers drifting over his sleeping daughter’s face.) Then there had been the weeks of watching Sam and Gabby grow closer, the pit in his stomach that grew out of loneliness.

_“And now you’re here,” Dean had whispered, head falling onto his shoulder._

And now he was there, watching in awe as his daughter wiggled on her blanket. She was a miracle, yes, but some nights it hit him that she didn’t have to be a ‘once in a lifetime’ type of miracle, and he’d look at Dean and get a small smile on his face at that realization. They weren’t ready for that yet, of course, but the fact that it could happen again, without any interference from the damn ARK corporation, was very exciting.

“I’ve got it!” a voice called, from outside the tent. Dean and Castiel looked up to see Claire walking in, head bent a bit as she caught her breath from running. “I’ve got it.”

“Asthma?” Dean asked.

Claire chose to ignore him, as she stood and grinned. “Little Bear’s name! I know what it should be.”

“And?”

“It’s called a dramatic fucking pause, Dean.” Claire stuck her tongue out at him, but obviously was in no mood to let her older brother ruin her news. She plopped down onto the floor next to Little Bear. “I was with Jack, going over some of the old books they’ve collected from nearby cities, and I found one on Norse mythology. Apparently, before IES, it was a big thing to study old gods and legends. _Anyway,_ there is a name in Norse mythology that — simply translated — means _Bear._ ” She looked up at Dean, “Beirne. B-E-I-R-N-E. You can also spell it with a ‘y’... B-Y-R-N-E, but that form means ‘river’ which is fucking boring.”

“ _Nerd._ ”

Castiel smiled, looking down at their Little Bear. “I love it.” The name seemed… _fierce._ And in a world like theirs, they needed to know that their little one was going to stand up for herself and be a fierce presence (not unlike her Aunt Jody and Aunt Claire). “Dean?”

Dean’s finger brushed along their daughter’s wild tufts of hair. “I told you it would happen with time, Cas. Welcome to the world, Little Beirne.”

* * *

That night, when the sun had set and the stars grew clear, the camp watched in shock as the ever present light that was IES seemed to explode.

* * *

Far above their spot on Earth, John Winchester stood in the middle of an utterly chaotic control room and tried to wrap his head around what was happening. A few weeks before, one of the main ‘rebel’ clubs had been ambushed and destroyed by ARKCO security — leading to numerous riots and acts of violence around IES. Apparently the rebels had been amassing a plethora of both data and intelligence against ARKCO, and soon after the riots started, they took over the security feeds — leaking videos and information in regards to both the implantation process, and how security forces had been fighting the civilians on Earth.

Once the general public started to get a sense for how things had been run over the past few years (decades, even), the chaos, anger, and riots started to grow. 

The rebels had gained control of the escape pods, and were allowing only _non_ -ARKCO residents to leave the base. Any security, government, or support members from the base, were being shot on sight if they got near the pods.  
As soon as the escape pods had been jettisoned, John watched in shock from the control room as the final part of the rebel plan was put into action. Controlled detonations along the eight main legs of the base. 

“Sir?” someone yelled. “Sir, they’ve found a bomb here in the control room. Sir— what do we do? Sir?”

John closed his eyes, feeling the last seconds of his life tick away. He could have done things so differently…

* * *

The last blast was large enough to temporarily light up the night sky like it was the dawning of a new day. Dean sat back, his daughter wrapped tightly against his chest, and Castiel’s hand clutched in his as they watched the explosions happening.  
“Fuck,” he breathed, and tried to find a part of himself that cared about the destruction of such a terrible place.

As the sky grew dark again, though, he found that he just… he really couldn’t.

* * *

_fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were one of the original readers of this, thanks for sticking around and I'm sorry it couldn't be all that I wanted it to be in the beginning. When this story started, I was fresh out of a break-up with a former co-writer, and just trying to figure out how to write on my own again. The initial result, in my opinion, was terrible. But, thankfully, time has allowed me to move on and improve, and I'm all the better for it!
> 
> Thanks for reading, commenting, and kudos'ing. I love and appreciate every single one of you. <3


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